


We Only Get Better

by Ninna_7



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Developing Relationship, Emotional Healing, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Future Fic, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Original Character(s), Past Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski, Post-Canon, Road Trips, Sharing a Bed, referenced original character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27043867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninna_7/pseuds/Ninna_7
Summary: Stiles doesn't call him these days. Not since he left Beacon Hills that last time. Not since Stiles left the FBI internship programme in favour of studying Forensic Psychology at NYU. Stiles has texted him a few times in the past, but he never called. Not anymore.Back then, however, whenever Derek received a call from Stiles or called Stiles in return, it was purely for survival's sake. So Derek doesn't know what to expect from this call. If he's being honest, he's scared of it.xOr:It's been years since Stiles and Derek last spoke, but a phone call from the human reconnects them.They have the chemistry, the history and the shared trauma.With time and each other, maybe they can have more.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Implied Lydia Martin/Jordan Parrish, Minor Melissa McCall/Sheriff Stilinski - Relationship, Minor Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura - Relationship, Referenced Cora Hale/OFC
Comments: 31
Kudos: 271





	1. It’s Good to Hear from You

**Author's Note:**

> These are difficult times so I made this with sugar, spice and everything nice.
> 
> This is just extremely self-indulgent fluff. I wanted to write something sweet and let these two dudes heal with each other's support for once in their lives.
> 
> There are no conflicts. In fact, there's barely a story. But there's a lot of soft, nice moments, and being there for each other and helping each other heal.
> 
> I hope you like it.

Derek is standing absentmindedly, waiting for his coffee when his phone rings in his pocket. He's taken aback for a moment as he reads the name on the screen, only coming back around when the barista calls his name. He nods as he grabs his coffee and answers the call on his way out of the café.

"Stiles," he says and waits.

Stiles doesn't call him these days. Not since he left Beacon Hills that last time. Not since Stiles left the FBI internship programme in favour of studying Forensic Psychology at NYU. Stiles has texted him a few times in the past. A question, a drunken realisation of a supernatural event in his childhood, a particularly disturbing piece of supernatural trivia. Derek indulged him then. If anything, Stiles' texts were amusing. So Stiles texted sometimes, but he never _called._ Not anymore.

Back then, however, whenever Derek received a call from Stiles or called Stiles in return, it was purely for survival's sake. That, or to give bad news. _'Scott is in trouble'_ , _'people are going missing in Beacon Hills'_ , _'the FBI thinks you're a mass murderer'_. So Derek doesn't know what to expect from this call. If he's being honest, he's scared of it.

Derek hears a soft chuckle on the other end of the line before Stiles says, "Don't worry big guy, we're all safe."

It's saying something, that Stiles can recognise Derek's apprehension by the intonation the werewolf uses when pronouncing his name. It seems like the younger man is still painfully familiar with Derek's exasperation.

" _How are you?_ " Stiles asks.

"Can't complain," Derek replies, and it's true. It hasn't been true for that long, but it is now. "And you?" He asks.

Derek can practically see Stiles chewing on his lower lip when he doesn't respond.

"What's wrong?" The werewolf asks then, ready to give up on his peace for more hurt and pain.

Derek knows that Stiles won't ask him for anything unless there's no alternative. So if Stiles asks, he knows he'll do it. Whatever _it_ is.

" _A friend of mine at NYU died last week,_ " Stiles says all at once with a wavering voice.

There's a pause.

"Was it…" Derek begins but trails off. He wants to say _'supernatural'_ or maybe _'murder'_ , but he doesn't.

" _Nothing like that,_ " Stiles answers anyway. " _She was sick. Had been for years._ "

Somehow that doesn't make it any better, Derek thinks. He opens the door to his building and opts for the stairs, not wanting to lose the connection.

" _Sorry, I know this has nothing to do with you. I just…_ " It's Stiles' turn to not find his words.

"Tell me about her," Derek says, simply.

He doesn't even know why he wants to hear it. But Stiles won't ask him for anything unless there's no alternative, so he listens. He puts his keys down and sits on his couch with his half-empty cup of coffee and Stiles starts talking.

" _It started with a one night stand,_ " he says, and Derek isn't surprised. " _I guess we needed some company or a distraction. But then we became friends and all that stopped. She was so smart and witty. She could keep up with anything you threw at her._ "

"She sounds a bit like you," Derek catches himself saying. He doesn't really care.

Stiles laughs wetly before he says, " _We were so similar it was a problem sometimes,_ " and Derek knows he's crying. " _I only knew her for a couple of years, but…_ " he breathes deeply before continuing, " _...it just seems so unfair._ "

"I know," the older man says. And again, it's true.

" _I kinda got used to monsters, you know. Human or otherwise,_ " Stiles says after a moment, " _Even though I'm just your average human, I can still fight them. I still have a chance. But this… how do you accept defeat from a fight you couldn't even take part in?_ "

Derek wants to say something, but he doesn't. He doesn't know _what_ to say. He's lost many fights in his life, but at least he always had a chance to show the universe he wasn't going to go down easy.

"I don't know. It just sucks to feel this powerless. Human or not." He's not particularly supportive, he thinks, but he hopes it helps somehow.

" _Yeah…_ " Stiles says, but Derek isn't sure he was listening. " _The service is tomorrow and I'm supposed to say something._ "

"Just be honest. People don't need to be great to be missed. We miss people's flaws just as much as their positive qualities. They knew her too, so just be honest. It's what I'd do." Derek says and he doesn't even know where all that's coming from.

Stiles is silent for a moment.

" _Annie was so stubborn. Like you wouldn't believe it,_ " the younger man says.

"Of course she was," Derek says, smiling. "We already established she was very similar to you."

" _Hey!_ " Stiles protests, but he's laughing, so Derek counts it as a win. " _Where are you, anyway?_ " The human asks next.

"In a rented flat in New Orleans.”

“ _Really?_ ” Stiles asks.

“Why’s that so surprising?”

“ _Nothing I just… That doesn’t seem much like your kind of scenery,_ ” he explains.

“There’s a lot of green empty space just outside town,” Derek justifies himself. “Are you in New York?”

" _Yeah._ "

There is silence again and Stiles doesn't seem to be crying anymore.

" _Thanks,_ " he says, quietly.

"Anytime," Derek replies.

" _I'm glad you're well._ "

"Thanks. It’s good to hear from you… even though not in the best of circumstances."

Derek doesn’t particularly want to hang up, but he has nothing to say. Or nothing he thinks would interest Stiles.

" _I'll talk to you later then,_ " the younger man says.

"Talk soon," Derek says, before hanging up.

He doesn't know what makes him google flight tickets to New York, or why he sets the alarm for the early hours of the morning, but by 7 am he's locking his apartment door. A duffel bag hangs on his shoulder.

✤

Stiles waits until it’s socially acceptable to leave the service, standing among his college friends, answering questions when he’s directly addressed. He hides in the bathroom for a few minutes and doesn’t feel bad about it. He knows he’s not the only one there who needs the occasional break from the overwhelming atmosphere of the place. He says his goodbyes to Annie's parents and younger brother and practically runs through the door, fighting the tears in his eyes.

He walks slowly, not really paying attention to his surroundings until he’s close to where he parked his jeep. He takes his keys out of his pockets and looks up. The young man nearly takes a step back, thinking he’s hallucinating when the image of Derek Hale materialises in front of him.

Derek’s leaning against the jeep, hands in his pockets and searching eyes looking into Stiles’ own.

“Derek?” Stiles says and takes a step towards the man. “What are you doing here?” He asks, surprised. His tears, momentarily forgotten.

“You seemed like you needed a friend,” Derek says, shrugging.

“Did you _fly_ here? How did you even find me?” Stiles continues as he approaches.

“You’re not that hard to track once I know what to look out for.”

“You _smelled_ me here?!” Stiles asks loudly, as his surprise builds.

“Stiles,” Derek warns, looking around.

“Sorry, sorry. You just caught me by surprise.”

“Is that okay?” Derek asks, now uncertain that he did the right thing.

“Yeah. I’m surprised, but like, good surprised, not bad surprised. I mean, it’s good to see you. It's been a while,” he replies, and Derek doesn’t know what is moving faster, Stiles' mouth or his hands.

“You too,” he says. “What do you want to do now? Coffee? Food?” The werewolf asks.

Stiles stares at him for a moment, as if measuring him. As if Derek surprised him once more.

“Yes,” he says finally.

Derek nods, stands upright and moves to the passenger door. Stiles continues to watch him, only moving again when Derek stares at him with one lifted eyebrow as he waits for Stiles to unlock the car.

Inside, the silence lasts all of two minutes. Derek asks about NYU and that’s enough to send Stiles into one of his monologues. Derek listens to him attentively, but can’t stop himself from feeling a strange familiarity to the situation.

It’s strange because it reminds him of a past he doesn’t particularly want to remember. It’s strange because he’s not dying, or in danger, or running against time to save someone. It feels wrong in the sense that every other time he was in Stiles’ passenger seat, he wished he was somewhere else. But not this time. Now he enjoys Stiles’ anecdotes. He almost misses what he left in Beacon Hills. Almost, because he’ll never truly miss the pain he only found in that town.

✤

They have coffee and talk until the café closes, then they order takeout on the way to Stiles’ apartment. Stiles sits on his bed and Derek at his desk, and by the time they both finish eating, they’ve caught up on over three years of events. Stiles tells him about Scott, the rest of the pack and his friend’s plans of going back to Beacon Hills after graduating from UC Davis. Derek tells him of Cora and South America, and San Diego, and Dallas, and New Orleans and a handful of other towns Derek’s lived in these past years.

Stiles asks him about New York, about before, and is surprised to know that Derek also went to NYU, several years back. He’s not surprised to know that Derek majored in linguistics with a minor in history, however.

“I can’t believe you never told me you went to NYU,” Stiles says, shaking his head.

“I thought you knew,” Derek says, shrugging.

“How would I know that?”

“How do you know half the stuff you know, Stiles? I don’t know, I figured you saw my files with the FBI, asked someone, googled me, whatever you do when you’re trying to find something out. At this point, I just assume you dug enough about me to know everything there is to know,” he says, but there’s no anger in his tone.

“You give me way too much credit.”

“I suppose you did get it wrong when you tried to convince your dad I was a murderer,” he says, frowning to prevent a smirk from forming in his lips.

“Hey, in my defence you _were_ acting all murder-y when I met you,” Stiles tries to defend himself, “all growly and menacing, shoving me against walls and banging my head against the wheel of my own car-”

“And saving your ass multiple times,” Derek interrupts.

“Well, right back at-cha, big guy,” Stiles says, a defiant stare in his eyes which melts at the sight of Derek’s smile.

Stiles stares down at his hands. This Derek in front of him is the same as the one who left Beacon Hills years before, but to Stiles he sounds so different. He's not only growls, scowls and threats. He's loyal as he's ever been, but he's incredibly softer. Maybe Derek's finally had the time to start healing. Stiles is glad for that.

“Thanks,” he says and looks up with a subdued smile, “it didn’t even cross my mind that you’d end up flying all the way here to see me, but thank you for doing it anyway.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Derek says. “Can I ask,” he continues after a beat, “why did you call _me_?”

“I guess I got tired of people telling me that I’m gonna be okay. I don’t want to hear any optimism yet. I know I’m gonna be okay eventually, I mean…” Stiles swallows, feeling a knot in his throat and tears stinging his eyes, “...I’ve recovered from so much shit. But right now I’m not okay and it sucks when people don’t get that. I’ll be fine eventually. But Annie won’t, she’s gone and I just…” He stops speaking when he feels Derek’s hand on his knee and his voice falters. The werewolf’s sitting closer than before.

“I get it,” Derek says quietly.

Stiles looks up at the ceiling, trying in vain to stop the tears from falling, and takes a deep, shaky breath.

“Yeah… I know you do.” Stiles gives him a wet smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime, Stiles.”

✤

Derek leaves at 3:30 in the morning to catch the first flight back to New Orleans. Stiles walks him to the door and they hug each other tightly before Derek gets in his cab.

“Keep in touch this time,” Stiles says.

“I will,” Derek replies, nodding.

And it’s true.


	2. Please Don’t Say You Love Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Stiles' dad has a heart attack, Derek is there for him.
> 
> (I know, I know, the sheriff's name really should have been John, but I'm trying my best to stick to canon for this one)
> 
> Also everything's gonna be fine, I won't cheat y'all like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title song: Please Don’t Say You Love Me by Gabrielle Aplin

They keep in touch.

Stiles doesn't call him again though. He and Derek text frequently and it's usually about the most mundane things. Stiles aces a test and practically flunks another. Derek needs to find another place to buy his coffee since his favourite barista left the café close to his apartment. Stiles mocks him and tells him to make his own coffee. Derek says he moves too frequently to buy his own espresso machine. He's actually thinking of moving again.

In fact, they text each other every week for two entire months before Stiles calls him again, at 5 pm on a Saturday, not even bothering to pretend he's not crying.

"Stiles? What happened?" Derek asks, hearing the sobs at the other end of the line.

He sits upright, just waiting for the signal to get dressed and go to him. The book he was reading is completely forgotten.

"My dad had a heart attack."

"Where are you?" Derek asks, standing and looking for a bag and a change of clothes in his closet.

"Beacon Hills Hospital. Thank god I was with him. He's still in surgery."

"Is anyone there with you?" Derek asks as he finds his keys, and he feels he might be acting a little callous, but he's a man with a mission, so he decides to worry about that later.

"I left Scott a voice message," he says vaguely. "Mel's assisting on the surgery."

Derek starts his car and his phone connects to the speakers. He places it on the passenger seat.

"Sorry for calling like this. I'm not good at waiting, and they're not telling me anything," he says, and sniffs.

"Don't apologize." He says, concentrating on the road.

There's silence for a long minute before Derek speaks again.

"Talk to me, Stiles," he says, knowing that the human is getting stuck inside his head again.

"I don't know what I'll do if I lose him too, Derek," he says, his voice a little choked.

"If he's in surgery that's because there's hope, okay?" Derek says, trying to convince himself as much as Stiles. "Is there anyone closer you can call to keep you company before I get there?"

Stiles is silently surprised for a moment before he speaks, "Derek, I-"

"Don't. I'm on my way to the airport. I should be there in about five hours."

There's silence.

"Okay?" Derek asks.

"Yeah, okay," Stiles replies quietly.

Derek then hears movement on the other side of the line, and Stiles speaks again "The doctor's coming out, I gotta go."

"Go. I'll be there as soon as I can," Derek says before the line disconnects.

Derek books a car as he boards the plane. Once he lands he texts Stiles again, asking him if he's still in the hospital. He doesn't reply, so Derek makes his way there faster than humanly possible.

✤

Derek hates the smell of hospitals. He hates the smell of that hospital in particular. He hates all the memories it triggers. Still, he scents the air in search of Stiles once calling him goes straight to voicemail. He finds him sitting on a chair, hands in his pockets, eyes unblinking, close to the ICU.

"Stiles," Derek says softly, as he approaches.

Stiles looks at him and stands.

"Hi," he says sheepishly with a forced smile, like he's trying not to cry.

Derek hugs him tight as if it's just something they do and Stiles is surprised for all of half a second before his face is on Derek's neck and his hands are holding tight, crumpling the back of the man's jumper.

"Talk to me," Derek says, incapable of asking the question that might break Stiles.

"He's in the ICU," Stiles starts and takes a step back to look at Derek, "he was awake for a bit, but he's still in pain so they're keeping him on a lot of painkillers. They say he's gonna be fine but he needs to stay under observation for a couple of days."

Derek feels a wave of relief wash over him.

"Is Melissa on call tonight?"

"Yeah, she asked to swap with one of the nurses," Stiles replies, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie.

Derek nods.

"How are you feeling?" He asks.

"Like shit," Stiles replies, with a sigh.

"What can I do?"

At that, Stiles simply stares at him. If it's because he doesn't know what Derek can do or because he knows there's nothing Derek can do or even another reason altogether, it's not clear.

So Derek continues, "Have you eaten? I can give you a ride. You should get some rest."

"Yeah, thanks," Stiles says, "They won't let me see him again until tomorrow anyway."

✤

They stop at the McDonald's drive-through before heading to the sheriff's house. Stiles puts his dead phone to charge in case the hospital calls him. They sit in the living room and eat, in near silence. Derek's not the talking type and Stiles for once doesn't seem to feel like talking. For some reason Derek hates it.

"How do I go back?" Stiles asks after he's finished eating and Derek has thrown the trash out.

Derek simply lifts an eyebrow, not fully understanding.

"How do I go back to New York after this?" He asks again, eyes finding Derek's. "If I weren't with him when it happened… I can't even think- I can't lose him, Derek, I just can't. He's the only family I have left, I'm lonely enough as it is," Stiles says, frantically.

He's shaking, tapping his fingers and wiping his hands on his pants. He smells of anxiety and sadness and anger and his heart is beating so fast and his breathing is too shallow and… Derek realises Stiles is on his way into a panic attack.

He kneels in front of the human and holds his face in both his hands before gently yet firmly saying, "Look at me. Stiles, look at me."

Stiles finds his eyes but he doesn't come back from the edge. The human's eyes water and his heartbeat is still increasing.

"Breath, Stiles," he says, and gently rubs his thumb on Stiles’ cheek. He takes a deep breath, urging Stiles to do the same. "That's it. You're doing good, keep going." He takes another breath and Stiles mimics. "Your dad's gonna be okay. You know that, right?"

It's not so much Derek's words that do it, but the softness of his voice, the gentleness of his touch, his effortless encouragement that shock Stiles back from his panic attack. He's even a little confused. He knew Derek could be kind and caring, but he never thought he could be this gentle.

Only then Stiles notices that he's holding, with a trembling hand, Derek's hand on his cheek. He swallows thickly and reminds himself to breathe. His chest still hurts.

"I can't stop thinking about what could have happened," Stiles says.

"But it didn't. He's gonna be fine. You were there when he needed you."

Stiles is quiet for a moment, and then he says, "Got any werewolf mantras to make me stop thinking about that?" He smiles, but like many other times, it doesn't reach his eyes.

He knows Derek's right, that there's no point going over and over the event in his head. But he can't shake it, he can't stop himself from thinking that he's been selfish, moving so far away from his father for college.

"Stiles?" Derek practically whispers.

He's impossibly close. Stiles could count the thousand different colours in Derek's eyes if he wanted to. But there's a question in them Stiles feels compelled to answer.

He doesn't fully understand what is happening, but he nods minutely, feeling his heart race once more, but for a completely different reason.

A second later his eyes flutter shut and he can feel the soft brush of Derek's lips on his. He's hurting, he's incredibly lonely, and he clings to the unknown gentleness he finds in Derek's lips like a lifeline.

And it works. Stiles momentarily forgets the cause of his pain and instead dives into the means to soothe it. He deepens the kiss and pulls Derek closer.

Derek offers no resistance, towering over Stiles as he leans back on the couch. The younger man's hands find their way under the werewolf's jumper and press heavily on his back, holding him tight.

Derek wants to touch, to feel Stiles' skin against his. In between kisses and breathless sounds, Derek finds the hem of Stiles' hoodie and slips his hand under it, caressing the soft skin of his stomach.

"Derek, wait," Stiles says, softly.

Derek stops instantly, pulling his hand as he moves away slowly and placing it flat over Stiles' heart, the layers of clothes between them once more. He's ready to apologise when Stiles touches his cheek with the palm of his hand.

"I just wanna know why," he says in a moment of sobriety, avoiding the werewolf's eyes. He's afraid to find pity there, so he doesn't look. Stiles might feel broken but he won't take pity.

It takes a moment for Derek to answer.

"Because I care," he says, and Stiles finds his eyes, "but I'm not good with words and I don't know what to say to make you feel better. But I know this, so maybe like this, I can..." 

He moves Stiles' hand from his cheek and kisses it, then continues, looking more vulnerable than Stiles has ever seen him.

"And because you're beautiful. Because I trust you, and I can't say that about many people," he makes another pause, "because I'm a little lonely too."

Stiles is left stunned. Derek's raw honesty is another thing he isn't used to.

"Is that okay?" Derek asks.

" _ Is that enough? _ " Is what Stiles hears.

"Yes," Stiles answers, pulling Derek into another kiss.

That night Stiles takes Derek by the hand and guides him to his childhood bedroom. The stark difference between the then and the now exacerbated by the so familiar scenery.

Derek is kind like Stiles knew he would be. He's painfully gentle, in a way that only someone who's been hurt is able to be. Stiles' heart breaks a little at the thought, and like that he hands Derek all his little pieces and allows the man to put him back together.

✤

Stiles wakes up with the autumn sun shining through his eyelids, the solid presence of Derek's body on his back and his phone ringing. He wakes up quickly, swiftly getting out of bed and closing the bedroom door behind him before he answers his phone.

"Hey Scotty," he says.

_ "Stiles, are you okay? My mom called me after my shift, are you at the hospital?"  _ Scott asks in a rushed tone.

"No, I'm at my dad's. I'm… coping, I guess," he answers.

_ "Are you alone?" _

"Derek's here."

_ "Oh," _ Scott says in surprise,  _ "Is he back in Beacon Hills?" _

"He flew in yesterday evening. I called him," he explains.

_ "Hm… I'm glad you're not alone… I'm on my way to Beacon Hills, I should be at the hospital in about an hour." _

"I'll meet you there," Stiles says.

They say goodbye and hang up. Stiles opens the door to his bedroom to find Derek sitting on his bed, staring at his crumpled t-shirt in his hands. They look at each other for a moment, while Stiles tries to decide what to say. Derek breaks the silence first.

"Is it okay if I shower before we go?" He asks.

Stiles is somewhat relieved. He doesn't want to talk about last night, he doesn't feel the need for it. He's grateful and feels closer to Derek than ever before. So he doesn't want to ruin that night by creating expectations or shutting Derek down.

He has his father to worry about, his master’s and where he's going to study it, or even  _ if _ he's gonna pursue it, now that he's painfully aware of the consequences of being so far away from his last living relative. He feels lucky to have Derek back in his life, to be able to share his all with the man and to be thoroughly understood by him. And that's all he wants, that's all he needs. He hopes it's enough for Derek too.

"Sure. I'll get you a towel."

✤

They meet Scott outside the hospital. He gives Stiles a long hug. He hugs Derek next, quicker but truthful. They make small talk for a couple of minutes before heading inside the hospital.

Derek hangs around until late afternoon. He buys them all breakfast. He sees the sheriff for a few minutes, who seems very awake now. Scott drives Melissa home at some point and comes back with lunch. He watches as Stiles asks several questions to the doctor responsible for his father, sure that Stiles researched everything there was to know about heart attacks until his phone's battery ran out last night.

When Scott comes back, he and Stiles make plans for the evening. Videogames and pizza to forget their worries and celebrate that Noah’s recovering fast. It's been a while since they had a bro's night anyway.

They invite Derek but he doesn't want to intrude. Besides, he should be heading back to New Orleans. He needs to pack his things since he's moving again. Stiles makes fun of him and says that he's only moving because he can't buy good coffee close to his place anymore. Derek pretends to be annoyed but ends up smiling anyway.

Stiles walks him to his rental as he leaves. They're alone again.

"How do I say thank you for last night without sounding like an idiot?" Stiles asks.

Derek huffs a laugh, "it wasn't really a favour for you to thank me," he says.

"I just… I want you to know though, that it means a lot."

Derek nods, more serious. "Yeah, me too."

Stiles moves closer and kisses him softly on the lips. He can't stop himself, resistant to let go of this new thing between them. Derek kisses him back.

Whatever this is, it feels fragile, too young, and Stiles doesn't want to break it. So he breaks the kiss and takes a step back.

"One for the road," he says.

Derek nods and shoots him a smile before getting in his rental car and driving away. He stops by the preserve before heading to the airport. It doesn't hurt as much as he thought it would. As it once did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Soft Derek's my favourite Derek.
> 
> Kudos and comments give me life.


	3. In the Darkest Nights, I’ll Hold You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Derek needs to go back to New York to clean the apartment he shared with Laura in the past, Stiles is there to help him through the painful memories.

Stiles misses almost an entire month of classes before his father forces him to go back to NYU. He has a diet and exercise plan, he’s taking the necessary medication and Melissa promises to keep an eye on him. She practically lives there now anyway.

Parrish also makes a point to take on the majority of the sheriff’s responsibility, so he can recover and not suffer from so much stress. So there’s not much more Stiles can do in Beacon Hills. He begrudgingly goes back to New York but doesn’t apply for a masters at NYU. He has a good chance of being admitted for the Legal and Forensic Psychology programme at UC Irvine, so he applies. He almost doesn’t apply at all, but his father threatens to disown him if Stiles decides not to get a masters because of him.

Derek, on the other hand, spends two weeks in Havana and another two weeks with Cora in Peru before going back to the US and renting a flat in San Francisco. He and Stiles text and call each other frequently. He sends the young man pictures of colourful cocktails and beautiful beaches every time Stiles complains about being bored to death in Beacon Hills. Later Stiles calls him to complain about the horrible flight to New York and how his roommate has made a mess of their shared apartment in his absence.

Derek calls him too. Cora tricked him into visiting her, simply because she wanted to introduce her new girlfriend to him and no, he’s “not jealous, Stiles, that’s ridiculous,” but Stiles can hear Cora laughing in the background and he knows Derek’s blushing.

They don’t talk about the night they spent together again.

Scott asked Stiles about it vaguely once, after they left the hospital that day. He sat on Stiles' bed, twisted his nose and asked, “are you and Derek… you know…”

_“Damn super sniffers,”_ Stiles thought then. He laughed awkwardly and opened the window to air the place, “The answer depends on the end of that question, dude.” He thought for a moment and settled for, “I needed him last night and he was there for me.”

Scott shot him a crooked smile and said, “That’s cool, I was afraid you were alone ‘cause I wasn’t here.”

And with that, the subject died.

✤

It’s almost three months later when they see each other again.

Derek’s driving through the state of New York one morning after a three-day-long werewolf Bootcamp Stiles is sure is actually a cult gathering, when he calls. Stiles is still half-asleep when he picks up.

“Derek?” He asks, rubbing his eyes.

“Hey, I’m on my way to New York now to sort out some stuff, do you wanna grab a coffee later?”

“What stuff?” Stiles says mid-yawn, looking at the clock on the bedside table. It’s 8 AM on a Sunday.

“Did I wake you? Sorry, I can call you later.”

“No, I’m awake. Go on,” he says and sits up, forcing his eyes open.

“Cora wants to buy a house, so we’re selling the apartment in New York. I didn’t clear it when I left, so I gotta do that before the estate agent can take pictures for the ad.”

“Oh,” Stiles says, more awake, “is Cora with you?”

“No,” Derek says, “there’s no point making her go through that."

“Coffee would be nice,” Stiles says quietly.

“Then I’ll call you when I’m on my way. You can go back to sleep now,” Derek says with a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, cool.”

They hang up and it takes Stiles half a minute to find his resolve. He gets up, showers, dresses, opens his laptop while his toothbrush hangs from his mouth, and gets to work.

Two hours later Derek lands on his New York apartment’s floor. He’s only half surprised when Stiles greets him by the door, two cups of coffee to go in his hands.

“Here’s your coffee,” he says.

Derek can’t help but smile as he puts the many folded boxes down and reaches for the cup. “You could have asked for the address, you know,” he says.

“And what’d be the fun in that?” Stiles asks.

✤

Derek's in charge of the kitchen, the bathroom and his old bedroom. He assigns Stiles to Laura's old bedroom and the living room. The younger man half-heartedly protests, as he was looking forward to the chance of rummaging through younger Derek's stuff.

They make a start in the living areas. Most of the kitchenware Derek's giving away to charity. He's keeping most of the books in the living room. The sofa is going in storage to wait for the day when Derek settles in his own place. Whenever and wherever that is. The boxes are labelled "keep", "storage" and "charity", and are separated into 3 clusters in the living room.

Derek's still in the kitchen by the time Stiles ventures into Laura's bedroom. The door is closed and he can feel his heart rate spike as he opens it. He braces himself, not knowing how much of Laura he'll have to face in that room.

He never really met her. The first time he saw her was when he found half of her body buried in a shallow grave in Beacon Hills. It occurs to him he never apologised for suspecting Derek of murdering his sister. He can't imagine the amount of pain Derek must have felt when she died.

The curtains are open, letting the weak winter sunshine through the ample windows. Still, the air is staler in that room than in the rest of the house. Stiles wonders when was the last time anyone was inside that room. He runs his fingers over the dusty furniture and mourns her absence even if he never knew her.

He opens the closet door, expecting to get an insight into her personality through the style of her clothes, but there are no leather jackets to connect her to her brother. No flowery dresses to contrast against him either.

_"All clothes are for charity"_ , Stiles remembers, coming back to his task. So he starts packing. He folds the clothes neatly, out of a weird sense of care and respect. He rushes through the bed linen, knowing that if anything in there still smells like Laura, that's it. He finds a couple of books and decides that Derek will keep them.

He's practically done, sweeping the floor in the closet, when he notices something different. One of the wooden boards seems loose, so he crouches and moves it out of the way. Stiles isn’t surprised to find a box wedged in the space. In fact, he would be surprised if he finished cleaning the flat and didn't find anything hidden. She was a Hale after all. Of course she had secrets.

Stiles picks up the box and sits on the bare mattress on the bed. He traces the triskelion on the lid and opens it gently. Inside he finds what looks like a book or a photo album. It's a scrapbook full of Laura's memories. Stiles feels like he just found a ghost.

The first picture has several people in it. He wonders if they used a special kind of lens because he can see all their faces perfectly. He recognises Derek, Cora, Laura and Peter. He guesses correctly who Talia is and assumes the man by her side is Derek's father. There's another couple in the back and children sitting at the front. Stiles counts eleven people. Of those, only four survived the fire. Only three are still alive. That’s if Peter’s still kicking.

He feels a knot in his throat a second or two before Derek calls his name. He looks up and a moment later Derek stops by the door. He looks around with a painful expression, before snapping out of it and looking straight at Stiles.

"Are you okay? You smell… sad," he says.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have opened it, but…" Stiles tries to think of something that won't make him sound like an insensitive asshole, but he fails. "I was curious," he says.

Derek stares at him expressionless for a couple of seconds and then sighs. He doesn’t seem angry, and somehow Stiles thinks that's worse. The werewolf enters the room and sits beside the human. He takes the scrapbook from Stiles and stares at the picture.

"These are my mom and my dad, as you might have guessed," he starts, "and me, Laura, Peter, Cora. This is my aunt and her husband. These are Luke, Alice and Mary, my cousins," he says, pointing at each person.

"Did you all get along?"

Derek huffs a laugh, "have you _met_ Peter?" He asks. Stiles laughs, nodding.

"I got along with my mom, but I was always closer to my dad. Laura and mom were always together, especially later on when Laura was a teenager. She was gonna become the alpha so she was always on training. They got in a lot of arguments because of that."

Stiles practically doesn't blink, listening to Derek freely tell him about his family for the first time.

"So I spent more time with Cora and dad," Derek continues, "Sometimes you remind me of him."

"How so?" Stiles asks.

"Well, for starters he was human," he says.

"Really?" Stiles asks, surprised, "I don't know why I always thought your whole family were werewolves."

"Not my dad," Derek says, and staring into Stiles’ eyes, he finds a whole new level of respect for his father.

He knows better now what it means to be a human running with wolves. He never thought much of it growing up. In truth, until what happened with Paige, he never really understood why his father didn’t want the bite. Now Derek’s glad that his father was human. The werewolf wasn’t able to appreciate him enough for that before he died.

"My mom was what made us a pack, but he made us a family. He was brave, like you. Kind… and incredibly nosy," he finishes, turning the page.

"Hey!" Stiles protests and nudges Derek with his elbow.

He looks down at the scrapbook again. It's a picture of Derek helping Cora with a melting ice-cream cone. Laura must be who took the picture.

Stiles looks at the scenery in the background. They're in a park, some children are playing. A small boy is sitting in the sandbox, covered in sand in a failed attempt to build a castle.

"Wait, wait," he says, stopping Derek from flipping the page. He squints and brings the book closer to his face. "Derek, that's me," he says, pointing.

"What?" Derek says and looks closer.

"Yeah, I remember this yellow coat. It was my favourite. I cried so much when I lost it."

"That's weird. Are you sure?" Derek says, amused.

"Yeah! I wonder how many times we were this close to meeting each other and never did," Stiles says.

"Mhm," Derek hums.

He traces Stiles' image with his fingers and is quiet for a moment. He wonders had he stayed in Beacon Hills after the fire if things would have been different. If he'd have met Stiles. He's sure he would, eventually. He wonders if he'd have liked him, or if their first encounter would have been just as hostile.

He turns the page, closing the line of thought about all the possible missed opportunities, then inhales sharply and locks his jaw, making his teeth click.

Stiles follows Derek's glance to the pictures on the page. The top one is a picture of Derek in his high school basketball uniform. He's smiling, probably after a successful game. There's a girl in focus on the back and she seems to be staring at the back of his head. A timid smile on her lips.

The bottom picture seems to have been taken from a distance. Derek sits at the bleachers, laughing widely. Besides him, the same girl from the picture above seems to be talking. Their hands are casually touching.

Stiles doesn't need much more to guess who that is. She's pretty, brunette with moles on her face. There's a cello case on her other side.

"Is that…" Stiles trails off, placing his hand over Derek's.

"That's Paige," Derek chokes out.

They sit quietly for a moment and Stiles has no idea what's going through Derek's head. He wonders how much of Derek's life would have been different if Paige hadn't died. If the bite had taken. If Derek hadn't been viciously manipulated for the first time in his life, but not the last.

"I didn't know Laura knew about us," Derek says wetly.

Stiles puts an arm around him. "Do you want to tell me about her?" He asks.

Derek shakes his head.

Stiles nods. He takes the scrapbook from Derek's hands gently and Derek lets him. He closes it and says, "Let's go get some fresh air. I'm getting hungry," he lies.

He takes Derek by the hand and walks him out of the apartment.

They buy sandwiches and coffee. Derek's quiet as they eat, it doesn't matter how many times Stiles tries to make him laugh, or talk. They go back to the apartment. Derek goes straight to his old bedroom and Stiles finishes cleaning Laura's bedroom. He puts the scrapbook back in the box and places it in one of the "keep" boxes in the living room.

✤

They don't talk again until the moving truck arrives. They send the "storage" boxes away and drop the "charity" boxes on the way to Stiles’ apartment. By the time they finish, it's been dark for a while.

"Where are you staying?" Stiles asks, once Derek parks the car.

"I'm gonna do part of the drive tonight until I'm tired, then park somewhere to sleep and tomorrow morning I'll resume the journey."

"No you won't," Stiles says with finality.

"Stiles-"

"Don't _'Stiles'_ me. You can sleep on the couch or take my bed if you want, but you're staying tonight."

"Why? What difference does it make?" Derek asks, stubbornly.

"What difference does it- It makes all the difference!" Stiles replies loudly, hands flying in the air.

Derek glares at him and it's like they regressed 7 years in their relationship. Stiles feels a twinge in his chest. He’s not gonna let that happen.

"Listen," he says, calming himself down and placing a hand over Derek's. For a brief second, he thinks Derek will pull his hand away, but it stays in place. Firm and warm under Stiles’. "You had a shit day, I know. I also know I didn't help, going over your personal stuff like that. I'm really sorry about that, I was supposed to help, not make things harder.”

Stiles pauses and shakes his head, gathering more cohesive thoughts. “You don't have to be alone anymore you know... You were there for me when I needed you and I want to be there for you too.”

Stiles stares at where his fingers fall between Derek's, "I know this is what you do when you're hurting, and if leaving is gonna make you feel better, that's okay. I understand. But I don't want guilt and grief to be your only company tonight. I can't take the pain away, but I'm familiar with the dark, so if you want someone to sit in it with you, I'll be there. Like you are for me. So please don't shut me out. Not now. Not anymore."

Stiles takes in Derek's silence. The werewolf doesn't look at him for a long while, so Stiles waits. He has time. He'll wait for Derek for as long as he has to.

Derek clears his throat, "Okay," he says with difficulty and stares at Stiles, gloss-eyed.

He smiles and Stiles shoots him a wide grin. Derek's heart skips a beat.

✤

They buy pizza from the parlour in the corner and head straight to Stiles' room even though his roommate isn't in. They watch a shitty Netflix movie as they eat, keeping their minds dutifully distracted. They watch a second movie, postponing as much as possible the inevitable quietness of pre-sleep.

When they finally turn off the lights and lie in bed together in the dark, waiting for sleep to take them, Derek tells Stiles about Paige. He tells him everything, and when Derek starts shaking amidst his tears, Stiles holds him tightly against his chest. He feels like if he doesn't, Derek will shatter.

The werewolf falls asleep first. Stiles thinks he must have been exhausted. It doesn't take long for the human to follow.

✤

They don’t talk much the morning after. It’s a little awkward and Stiles gets the impression that Derek’s avoiding looking at him. He wonders when was the last time Derek let himself be as vulnerable as he was last night in front of someone. When Stiles leaves the bathroom already dressed, after a long shower, Derek’s waiting for him, car keys in hand. Stiles stares at them and wonders if he did something wrong, if he pushed it too far, if Derek wasn’t ready yet to show that side of him to Stiles.

“You have early classes today, right?” Derek’s question snaps him out of it.

“Yeah,” he answers.

“You’re gonna be late,” Derek says next.

“Wha-” Stiles grabs his phone from his bedside table, frantic, “Shit! Shit, shit, I need to leave like, five minutes ago! But what about you, what about breakfast? I’m starving, Derek, I bet you're hungry too!” He says touching his stomach with both hands and looks up.

Derek is simply staring at him from the middle of the room. His expression is soft. Stiles doesn’t know why. Only then the student sees that in Derek’s other hand is a brown paper bag.

“Is that… please tell me that’s breakfast,” Stiles practically begs.

Derek huffs a laugh and gives him the package.

“Get your bag, I’ll drop you off,” Derek says, “You can eat on the way.”

“Oh my god, you’re amazing.”

“I am a generous god,” Derek jokes.

With that, Stiles' worries are put on hold. Derek’s making jokes and he seems better than he did yesterday. Stiles would even dare say he looks a little happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all liked this one.
> 
> Kudos and comments give me life <3


	4. For Better and For Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there's a wedding, Derek has a plan, they flirt, and new, happier memories are made.

Less than one week after Derek drove Stiles to class and made the long drive back to San Francisco, the werewolf receives an email from an unknown person. She introduces herself as Jasmine. She saw Derek and Cora in the event in the state of New York and asked around for his contact.

Derek remembers her talk at the event. She belonged to a small pack in New Mexico. Her story, Derek recalls, is a little similar to his. She lost her family and pack to hunters when she was still only a teenager, her only living relative - a brother two years older than her - became her alpha before he was ready to be, and like Derek, he lost his spark. But they overcame their difficulties even as young, small-numbered and alpha-less as they were. Now their pack consists of the two siblings, her husband, and her brother’s adoptive daughter.

Her email is polite, but straight to the point, which Derek appreciates. She explains that she has a plan to create an orphanage for supernatural children who have been abandoned or lost their families to tragedy. She “hopes this isn’t insensitive,” when she mentions Derek’s own hardships living his late teen years without his parents as the main reason to reach out to him. She doesn’t have a strong name like the Hales, or power, or contacts to back her, so she hopes Derek will be kind enough to reach out to his contacts for help. She doesn’t have much more than her will to make this dream happen, and she’s only asking if Derek knows anyone who would be interested.

He reads the email three times in a row. Later he reads it again. The next day a thought begins to form in his head. That night he calls Cora. And then Scott.

He’s replying to the email, two days after receiving it, when his phone rings. Stiles’ name shows on the screen. Derek answers and puts him on speaker.

“Stiles,” he says, only half paying attention.

_“My dad’s getting married,”_ he blurts out.

“What, really?” He picks the phone up, giving it his full attention, “That’s good, right? I mean, I assume he’s marrying Melissa?”

_“Yeah, that’s great!”_ Stiles says, _“I thought they’d never get their shit together but it looks like my dad’s heart attack put some fire under their asses. He’s retiring soon too. He’s got three more months, then the retirement party and the wedding the week after.”_

“They’re getting married in three months? That’s fast.”

_ “Mhm, they said they want it to be small. Just family and close friends in the garden. Hey, you should come!” _

Derek laughs, “You can’t just invite people to other people’s weddings, Stiles.”

_ “I’m not inviting  **people** , I’m inviting you. Come on, it’s gonna be fun.” _

“I’ll think about it,” Derek says, smiling. “Does Scott know already?” He asks. “I called him yesterday and he didn’t mention anything.”

_“Yeah, dad and Mel told us just now over a video call and I just had to tell you too,"_ he barely pauses before changing the subject, _“Scott said you talked. Is everything okay?”_

It’s sad that even after years there’s part of them that’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop. They still need to make sure that no threats are looming in the shadows.

“Things are good.”  _ Good? _ \- Since when are things  _ good _ for Derek? “I was gonna call you tomorrow to tell you all about it.”

_ “Well, I already gave you my news. I’m all ears.” _

Derek tells him about Jasmine, her request, his conversations with Cora and Scott. It’s all very early on and there’s not much to tell, but he reads her email out loud and then his reply. Stiles is ecstatic and helps Derek sound less stoic and more tentatively optimistic on his email. Derek requests meeting her in person before discussing anything further, but he might know of someone with an available piece of land that could be interested.

_“Are you sure you’re okay with this though?”_ Stiles asks after Derek presses send, _“It’s still your family’s land after all.”_

“Yeah, I’m sure. I wouldn't be able to live where that house stood ever again, but I can’t just give it up and sell it. The land hasn’t been taken care of for years now, it would be a good use of it.” Derek takes a deep breath, “I think they’d approve.”

_“I’m sure they would,”_ Stiles replies, softly.

✤

Weeks pass. Derek meets Jasmine in San Francisco. A week later she brings her whole pack to meet Cora, the only other heir to the land, and Scott, the alpha of Beacon Hills. Derek agrees to donate two-thirds of the preserve to the orphanage, but he wants to be involved as much as Jasmine is. He says to her in private that he’ll also fund part of the main house with his share of the apartment sold in New York. She nearly cries in front of him.

Stiles is almost graduating now. He texts Derek saying “told dad you’re coming now you can’t say no cause it’d be rude” a month before the wedding, but by then Derek has already decided he’s going.

The sheriff's retirement and his and Melissa’s wedding day arrive in no time.

  
✤  
  


Stiles stands by his father and Scott, a few steps away from the officiant. There are about thirty chairs in rows at the backyard of the Stilinsky residence separated in the middle by flower arrangements on each side of the aisle. There's an arch adorned with pink roses and fairy lights where Noah stands with Stiles and Scott, all sharply dressed in navy suits.

Derek recognises most of the faces there, but still, he stands awkwardly at one of the garden edges until Stiles catches his eyes and smiles brightly. He taps his dad on the shoulder and points at Derek’s direction before walking up to him.

They hug, tapping each other’s backs like true bros and Stiles says, “I was starting to think you weren’t coming”

“I’m told that’d be rude,” Derek jokes, “I half expected you to still be wearing your signature hoodie for this.”

Stiles looks affronted, “I’ll have you know I chose this suit myself,” he says.

“It was a good choice,” Derek gives himself the chance to look Stiles up and down. He's grown into himself, all sharp angles and lean muscle. Derek notices that the human put some effort into his hair, though it still looks a little messy. Probably due to Stiles constantly running his fingers through his hair. He looks happy. Bright-eyed and smiling easily. “You look good,” Derek says.

Stiles scoffs, “Look who’s talking,” he says, “I never thought I’d see you in a suit. It’s a pleasant surprise,” he smirks.

"Don't get used to it, you won't see this often."

Kira and Lydia come out of the house then. They say hello to Derek and Kira even hugs him. Then Lydia tells them the bride is ready. Scott disappears into the house and Stiles practically runs to his father's side. Derek sits with the two young women on the first row, feeling a little out of place. But then Stiles flashes him a grin and gives him two thumbs up, making him chuckle. Lydia seems to observe them attentively, but she doesn't say anything.

✤

The wedding is simple but beautiful. Scott gives his mother away with a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. Both him and Stiles end the ceremony in tears. The vows are simple but meaningful. They're romantic in a mature way. There's no need for big promises and grand gestures because they've proven over and over again, every day, in every detail, that their love is true. So they kiss and are declared married.

Later, there's food and drinks. The sheriff doesn't make a speech, but Stiles and Scott make one together. It's heartfelt and honest. Stiles and Scott have always been brothers. Melissa has cared for Stiles deeply in everything she's done. The sheriff is more of a father to Scott than Rafael has ever been. They're happy not only because their parents found love and happiness again, but because this is the family the boys always hoped they could be.

When it gets dark, fairy lights illuminate the garden. Music plays and some people dance. Derek can't remember the last time he's been to a party. He never really liked parties. This one's not so bad, however. With these people, he feels like he could enjoy a party without too much effort.

He catches up with everyone. Kira's back in town and attending the community college since coming back from the desert two years ago. Malia's been on a road trip for over 6 months. Lydia is at MIT, as expected. Parrish is the new sheriff, which Derek thinks is good. The sheriff should be someone who knows the darkest sides of Beacon Hills. There are some other names thrown around that Derek doesn't know much about, like Liam, Scott's beta who's attending the same college as his alpha.

For the entire wedding, Derek doesn't lose sight of Stiles. The human loses the suit jacket early on and by the time he's dancing with Kira and Scott his tie is loose and his sleeves folded up. His hair is now a lost cause with the mixture of nerves, movement and sweat. He laughs loudly with Scott and he's got a few drinks inside him. It's a good look on him, Derek thinks. He could watch him for hours.

"You're not gonna dance?" Stiles asks him, breaking his trance.

"Not if I can help it," Derek says, wondering if he had been staring.

"Hm… prefer to watch?" Stiles asks innocently enough.

But Derek knows him enough to know that there's nothing innocent in Stiles' tone. Derek is silent for a moment, unsure about how to play this situation.

Flirting is not something they do. They've slept together that one time and they kissed the morning after and never talked about it again. But they've never flirted with each other. Derek wonders if it would change things if flirting became something they do on the regular. And if so, how it would change them.

"It's a good view," he says, once he makes up his mind.

Stiles smiles at him, pleased. He sits beside the werewolf.

"I'm happy you came," Stiles says.

"Me too," Derek agrees, "Thank you for inviting me."

"I wanted to share something happy this time," he says. Derek looks at him with his eyebrows drawn together, so he continues, "I meant it when I said that I wanna be there for you when you're going through stuff. And you can always make me feel better when I'm low. But I don't want it to be all that we have, you know? It'd be too sad."

Derek watches the honest eyes gazing at him for a moment, thinking about everything he wants to share with Stiles.

"I went to the construction site today. They've finished the foundations already," he says and then smiles.

"That's great! Is Jasmine in town? I still haven't met her."

"No. She's moving next month though. She's the one doing all the work, really. I'm just overseeing the building."

"She sounds cool. But don't sell yourself short," Stiles tells him, "I want to see the building when it's ready."

"You will."

"Great. Now come dance with me, 'cause I'm not much of a watcher," Stiles says, standing up.

"Stiles," Derek protests, but he's half given up already.

“I’m afraid it’s unavoidable, Der,” he says, “besides, we both know you don’t think I’m  _ barely tolerable _ anymore,” he finishes with a wink.

It takes Derek a moment to suppress his surprise at Stiles’ dork-ish but skilful use of classical literature in his flirting game, and when he does, he’s been dragged halfway to the improvised dance floor already.

“I never found you barely tolerable,” Derek protests, scowling, once they’re facing each other.

“Oh ho ho, that’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard you tell, Mr  _ ‘I’ll tear your throat out with my teeth’, _ ” Stiles taunts.

Derek blushes at the memory, ashamed of his constant aggressive behaviour at the time.

“It’s okay,” Stiles says then, pausing his dancing when the song ends, “I know I’m more of an acquired taste,” he explains, sheepishly.

The next song is slow, making Stiles look around him at a handful of couples dancing cheek-to-cheek. “I’ll let you off the hook this one time, big guy,” he says, a little disappointed, and turns away. He doesn’t want to force things. The thought of making Derek uncomfortable is dreadful.

But Derek reaches for his hand and pulls him closer slowly, “What, you force me to the dancefloor and then leave me hanging?” He asks.

Stiles lets himself be led because of course, Derek would be the one leading. He notices his father glance at them for a second before resuming an animated conversation with his new wife. Stiles places his forehead on Derek’s shoulder, equal parts content and trying to hide. It feels nice but it’s not something he wants to share with the world. If anyone asked, he wouldn’t know what to say. Stiles wants this, he likes this and Derek and it feels so easy… He wants to protect it at all cost.

“You were never  _ ‘barely tolerable’ _ ," Derek whispers, “You were incredibly frustrating at times, but it was something I needed. Nobody stood up to me as you did. I could use someone brave enough to call me out on my bullshit. Despite that, you still cared. I knew it even when I didn’t want to see it. That’s why I started trusting you.”

They stay silent until the song ends and Derek steps away. “Now you can bail,” he says good-humoured and moves away.

Stiles desperately wishes they were alone.

✤

The bride and groom disappear at some point. Then Parrish gives Lydia a ride home. Kira, Scott, Stiles and Derek clean up the best they can, and Scott leaves with Kira as soon as all the tables and chairs are all piled up together. It's just past midnight when Derek and Stiles find themselves alone in Stiles' living room.

"Where are you staying?" Stiles asks.

"At a hotel downtown," Derek replies.

"Not the loft?"

Derek shakes his head, "I'm renting it."

"Oh, right," Stiles says, "when are you going back to San Francisco?"

"Tomorrow afternoon. I need to sort some stuff out in the morning. Are you leaving for New York soon?"

"I'm taking a cab with dad and Mel to the airport in the morning."

"Where are they, by the way?"

"Spending the night in a nice hotel ‘away from the kids’," he says with air quotes.

"Wise," Derek says, "I should probably go too."

Stiles shrugs. "You don't have to, it's not that late," he says, "but of course you can if you want to, you don't have to stay if you'd rather go back," he amends.

"Do you want me to stay?" Derek asks.

Stiles shrugs again, not wanting to flat out ask Derek to stay in case he'd rather leave. He knows Derek well enough to know that the werewolf will oblige even if that's not what he wants.

Derek moves closer to him.

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want me to stay awhile?"

"Yeah," Stiles gives in.

"You were flirting with me today," Derek says tentatively, in a change of subject, standing less than a foot away.

"I was," Stiles says.

"Was it just for fun?" He asks, honestly curious. Even without a hint of accusation in Derek’s voice Stiles looks at his feet.

Both are wearing their shirts with the sleeves folded up now. Derek's tie is loose around his neck and Stiles lost his hours ago. Derek stares at him. Stiles almost seems to be simply standing there, casually, hiding his hands in his pockets. However, his shoulders are low and he's biting the inside of his cheek and Derek doesn't want to ask what's wrong because this is supposed to be a happy memory.

"Hey," he says, placing his hand on the human's cheek, lifting his face.

"Yeah?" Stiles asks, staring Derek in the eyes.

"Do you want me to stay the night?"

It takes a second for Stiles to answer. "Yeah," he says, finally, in a sigh.

He closes his eyes and leans into Derek's hand, holding it in place with his own. If he's being honest, he's missed that touch.

They stand like that in the middle of the living room for what feels like minutes until Derek breaks the silence again.

"Stiles?" Derek asks once again, with a deep husky voice, like the name tastes sweet on his tongue.

"Yeah?" He asks, opening his eyes. Derek stares at him with a soft expression and a question in his eyes Stiles remembers answering months before.

"Yes," Stiles answers.

A moment later Derek's body is flushed against him and Derek's open mouth finds his. Stiles gives in readily, knowing that whatever this is between them, they care deeply about each other, and that's enough for now.

With Derek's broad strong hands on him, Stiles feels the ghost of his gentle touches come to life once more. The werewolf's still kind and gentle, slow and patient. But his kisses, the brush of his lips on Stiles' skin and the way his fingers trace patterns on the back of Stiles’ neck carry an underlying hunger that the human didn't notice before. For some reason, it makes him happy.

Stiles doesn't feel like he's breaking this time. He's not in such a fragile state that Derek needs to hold him together so he won't fall apart. He's happy that this time Derek seems willing to take as much as he gives, that he trusts Stiles to care for him just as much. And Stiles pours his all into this moment.

Stiles can and will talk all the time, but with Derek he lets his actions speak louder. He wants to remember every detail of this, so he forces all of his unruly attention on them, on their bodies, their touches, the taste of each other’s skin and the breathless sound of their voices.

Later, in a moment of clarity only found in the silence of recovering breaths and tangled limbs, Stiles knows that they'll be okay.

He falls asleep with Derek's head on his chest, running his fingers through the man's soft hair.

✤

Derek is woken up by the buzzing noise of his phone's alarm. The soothing sound of Stiles' regular breathing and heartbeats signal that the human is still asleep.

He wiggles out of Stiles' tight embrace carefully, causing the younger man to stir but not wake. He turns off the alarm, checks his messages quickly and ventures into the shower, hoping Stiles won't mind. He dresses in his yesterday's pants but wrinkles his nose at his sweaty shirt.

He decides then to wake Stiles up, so he goes down to the kitchen and makes two cups of coffee. He places both cups on the bedside table and sits on the bed, nudging the human gently.

"Hey," he says softly, "wake up, it's morning already."

Stiles grunts and stirs, and slowly blinks himself awake, confusion present in his eyes, as he tries to piece his surroundings together.

"What time is it?"

"Eight-thirty," Derek replies, checking his phone.

"No," Stiles protests.

"Yes," Derek says, huffing out a laugh, "here," he says, giving Stiles his cup of coffee.

"Oh my god, yes, please," Stiles says, sitting up. He takes a deep breath, enjoying the warm smell. "Did you add sugar?" He asks.

"A disgusting amount, you heathen."

"Perfect," Stiles practically purrs.

Two minutes later, when the caffeine kicks in, Stiles notices that Derek's showered and half-dressed.

"Do you have to go soon?"

"Yeah, I have to sign some papers at the preserve. And if I recall correctly you need to meet the newlyweds before going to the airport."

"Mhm," Stiles nods, "do you need a change of clothes? I'm sure I can find something that fits you this time," he chuckles into his cup.

"Oh I'm sure of that," Derek nods, giving Stiles a once over, "I could use a t-shirt," he says.

"Say no more," Stiles blurts out excitedly, placing his cup on the bedside table and shoving Derek out of the bed to get up.

Derek's weary of his enthusiasm, and his worry is justified when Stiles hands him a t-shirt that says "Team Jacob" on it.

"No," Derek says.

"Come on, you got the reference, you have to wear it now."

"That makes no sense and you know it. Why do you even have this?" He asks, disdainful.

"Scott lost a bet," is all that Stiles says.

"Well I haven't, so give me something else," he huffs and scowls.

Stiles laughs heartily. "It was a long shot anyway," he says.

He gives the werewolf a comic book t-shirt because he likes Derek but he's also a little shit. Derek begrudgingly accepts it, to Stiles' amusement, claiming he's only going to wear it in the car and the hotel lobby before he changes anyway. And like that, it's time for Derek to leave and Stiles to get ready.

"Have a safe flight," Derek says.

"Mhm, and you drive safe. Just because you have werewolf senses it doesn't mean that the speed limit doesn't apply," Stiles replies.

Derek rolls his eyes.

"I'll see you soon?" Stiles asks, trying and failing to hide his expectations.

Derek moves into his space and kisses him softly on the lips. Just like Stiles did that other time. It tastes like a promise, but Stiles doesn't know of what.

"I'll see you soon," Derek says.

Stiles watches him drive away through the living room window.

✤

That night, as Derek settles on his couch in San Francisco, he texts Stiles.

"Am I invited to your graduation?"

It's less than a month away, and Derek already can't wait.

" _ Duh _ ," comes the reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I hope y'all enjoyed this. I loved writing the wedding stuff.
> 
> Kudos and comments give me life.


	5. I’m Glad You’re Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles graduates.
> 
> Not all memories are happy memories, but at least they're alive to make new ones.

Graduation day arrives, joining Derek, Stiles, Noah, Melissa, Scott and Lydia in New York for the ceremony and celebrations. Derek gets there early and walks mindlessly around the big campus, observing the students and remembering his long gone graduation day. Laura had forced him to go, saying he’d regret skipping it. She’d been the only one present to celebrate his accomplishment.

Derek’s sure there are pictures of that day lost somewhere among the things he avoids going through. He remembers like it was yesterday though, her red dress and the proud look in her face Derek deemed himself unworthy of.

“I thought you said I wouldn’t see this look often,” Derek hears from behind him.

He turns around and sees Stiles smiling at him, wearing his gown and holding his graduate cap under his arm.

“That’s twice in a row,” Stiles says, referring to Derek’s white shirt and black slacks.

“I can make the sacrifice for you,” Derek says.

They hug and Derek kisses him quickly on the cheek.

“How are you feeling?” He asks.

“Nervous,” Stiles answers, with an awkward laugh, “I just know I’m gonna trip.”

Derek laughs, “that is a possibility.”

“That’s not helpful, Derek,” he says loudly, but he’s not angry.

“You’ll do great. By the time you notice it’s gonna be over,” he says, fishing his phone from his pocket.

He gets closer and points his phone at them. Only then Stiles realises Derek is taking a selfie of the two together.

Derek takes a few pictures and then straightens, “Is anyone else here?”

“Dad and Mel went to get Scott and Lydia at the main building and they’ll be back in a minute.”

Derek takes a deep yet discrete breath and turns his head to the direction of the building. Less than half a minute later Stiles’ family appears. Scott practically sprints in his direction and hugs him, nearly dropping Stiles on the ground. Derek takes a step back, nods at Noah, who then comes in for a handshake and a tap on the shoulder. He hugs Melissa and Lydia before Scott is convinced to let Stiles go.

✤

Stiles trips.

But only when he's close to his chair again. He's sure not many people saw it happen.

His father caught it on camera.

But overall the ceremony goes beautifully. After, they all go out for a meal. Derek laughs fondly and shakes his head when Stiles returns without his gown, in jeans, t-shirt and a plaid shirt over it. They catch up over dinner. Scott talks about vet school, Lydia about MIT and grad school, Noah mentions his personal projects and how he’s making the best of retirement, Melissa talks about her promotion to administration and how she no longer has to do long shifts.

When it’s Derek’s turn, he starts awkwardly, not being one to speak much. But he talks about the orphanage and his weekly trips to Beacon Hills. Scott helps him, adding details to events and conversations, and Derek’s surprised that everyone at the table seems interested. Melissa says she’s loved the idea the moment Scott told her, and Noah offers his help with anything Derek needs, even inviting him for lunch or watching baseball games on the TV whenever he’s in town.

Strangely, Stiles is quiet for most of it, but he smells content, so Derek doesn’t think much of it.

Dinner ends with Melissa, Noah, Scott and Lydia saying their goodbyes. They’ll all meet again the day after to go sight-seeing. Derek’s invited too, but he has a couple of meetings he needs to attend with Jasmine in Beacon Hills tomorrow afternoon.

After the four are gone, Stiles asks Derek, like he always does, “Where are you staying?”

“Haven’t booked anything yet,” Derek shrugs.

“Good,” Styles says and starts walking.

Derek follows him. It’s only a twenty-minute walk to his apartment. Stiles talks nonstop about the day, about his grades and last tests and how he barely passed one subject in specific because of all the time he spent in Beacon Hills with his father. He looks overjoyed, talking about how happy Noah is and how retirement suits him. Then he talks about his expectations for UC Irvine and constant trips to Beacon Hills, though he knows he’ll end up travelling less than he’ll be able to because that’s just how it always works. He’s also doing some extra training over the next month to consult for the FBI on more 'mysterious' cases.

One topic leads to another and then another and another and... Stiles just doesn’t stop. Derek listens to all of it, and for an untrained observer, that’s just Stiles. He just talks a lot. But Derek knows better. Stiles practically doesn’t breathe as he speaks, almost like he’s afraid of what he’ll find in the silence between his words.

He continues talking as the two climb the stairs to his apartment, through the front door and into the living room. That’s when Derek decides to interrupt him.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asks simply, just loud enough to be heard over Stiles monologuing.

“Wha- what do you mean?” Stiles stammers, a faltering smile on his lips.

Derek doesn’t say another word. His inadequacy with them would never win against Stiles’ master ability to use them to deflect, distract and convince. So he lets the silence between them do the trick.

In queue, Stiles’ shoulders deflate and he lets out a long breath.

“I promised I wasn’t gonna cry today,” he says and sniffs.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asks again, holds Stiles by the hand and guides him to the couch.

They sit in silence, while Stiles fidgets with his fingers. Derek has to force himself not to think about all the possible ways he might have fucked up or all the reasons Stiles would have to put an end to this thing they’ve been building together. The pain he feels simply thinking about it is sobering. He’s known for a while that he’s slowly but surely falling deep for Stiles, but this?

This is terrifying.

“Annie didn’t graduate today,” Stiles starts and Derek is glad that he’s pulled out of his head, “nobody even mentioned her name. Like she didn’t take classes with most of us for over two years. But then again, I didn’t say anything either, so who am I to judge everyone else?” He wipes at his nose with the back of his hand.

“You’re saying it now,” Derek says, placing a hand on Stiles' back.

“It’s just so unfair. She was a good person, she never harmed anyone. When I think about all the times I could have died and didn’t… all the things I’ve done, the people who died through my hands… Why do I get to live and she doesn’t? Why do I get to graduate and she doesn’t?”

“Stiles,” Derek says, painfully.

“I know I shouldn’t say these things. I don't want to die. It just makes me so angry,” he says, folding his hands into tight fists.

“I know,” Derek says with a sad smile, “you have no idea how many times I asked myself the same question. There was a point that living with myself got so hard, dying would have been a blessing,” he says evenly, watching Stiles’ tears fall. “If it wasn’t for Cora, after Boyd…”

Derek lets his words die in his mouth.

“I don’t mean to make this about me,” Derek says after a while, “I know how that feels like. It doesn’t matter what people say, because we’re always worse inside our own heads. Still, I’m glad you’re the one who’s alive.”

Stiles frowns and glares at him.

“I’m sorry you lost her. I can’t imagine the pain you feel. I didn’t know her and I don’t know what you felt for each other. But if I’ll ever be allowed to be selfish about something, let this be it. I’m glad you’re alive.”

“When did you become so reasonable?” Stiles asks, a little frustrated, but he’s not angry.

“I tell you I’m being selfish and you call me reasonable?” Derek lifts his eyebrow.

Stiles leans over, placing his head on Derek’s shoulder.

“For what’s worth, I’m glad you’re alive too,” Stiles says.

Derek kisses the top of his head, even if he doesn’t fully share that sentiment. He imagines Stiles feels the same. They’ve risked their lives for each other and so many others enough times that they know their own lives come second.

A thought crosses Derek's mind and he asks, “You loved her, didn’t you?” He caresses Stiles’ hair. There’s no jealousy in his voice, only compassion.

“Yeah,” Stiles says, “but not in the way you’re asking.” He holds Derek’s other hand between his. “With her, I felt like I could be normal. Annie was like my way out, you know? It was easy because she didn’t know all the stuff I have to know. Scott’s my brother, Lydia’s my best friend, and you…” Stiles doesn’t say what Derek is, “and you’ll always come first, but she made me feel like I could be just a stupid dude too into puzzles studying something way above anything he really understood. And I love her for that.”

Stiles wets his lips before continuing, “But I’m not normal. I’m not just that guy. The reason I wanted her around was that she didn’t know all of me. So I could never love her, or anyone like her, that way.” He wipes his face with the sleeves of his shirt before taking a deep breath, “So much for not crying, huh.”

“It’s okay,” Derek says, “whatever you need.”

“A shower,” Stiles says resolutely after a few seconds, “I need a shower, it was really hot into that gown, I was sweating the whole day.” He gets up, leaving Derek on the couch, blinking at him from the abrupt change. “I’ll be right back, make yourself at home.”

✤

Stiles lets the warm water wash over the sweat of the day, the tears and the grief. He’ll be happy for the rest of the night. For Annie’s memory. For Derek, who accepts all his rants and jokes and mistakes and broken pieces. Derek who trusts him and his brain and his heart, and who makes him feel wanted in every way.

He comes out of the shower to the sound of Derek talking to someone. His roommate stands in the living room, making small talk with Derek, who’s still where Stiles left him on the couch.

“There he is,” Joe, the roommate, says when Stiles enters the room already in his pyjamas. “How was graduation?”

Derek excuses himself to the bathroom to change as well. He can still hear the young men talking in the living room.

“You weren’t kidding when you said he was hot,” Joe says in a hushed voice.

“Dude, he might hear you! And I never said that. I said he was very good looking,” Stiles whisper-shouts.

“What, he’s got supersonic hearing or something?”

Stiles simply grunts in frustration. Derek chuckles.

He finds Stiles in his bedroom when he comes out again. He leans by the closed door with arms crossed and stares at the graduate, smirking.

“What?” Stiles asks, pulling the blankets on his bed.

“You told him I’m hot,” Derek says. Stiles glares at him with his mouth open.

“Firstly, it’s rude to eavesdrop. Secondly, I said good looking-”

“ _ Very _ ,” Derek interrupts.

“Whatever. And thirdly, we’ve slept together. Twice!” He shows with his fingers, “I think we’re way past the point that’d be news,” Stiles says, blushing and fumbling angrily with his blankets.

It’s the first time either of them acknowledges it out loud and it warms Derek’s heart that Stiles breaks yet another wall between them.

“Now get in,” he says, pointing at his bed, “we’re watching a movie.”

Derek unfolds his arms, taking a few steps in Stiles’ direction. He brushes his soft beard against Stiles’ cheek and whispers, “thank you,” before kissing the warm blush there.

✤

They make halfway through the movie before Stiles starts talking again. The characters are taking a long drive, so he says, “Annie and I were gonna go on a road trip when we graduated. I need to send Roscoe home so we were just gonna drive to California and make some stops on the way.”

“Is that something you still want to do?” Derek asks.

“She made me promise I’d do it without her if it came to it. I was just gonna make the drive myself, straight to Beacon Hills. Technically it’s still a road trip so I wouldn’t feel too bad about the promise.”

“But?”

“Do you want to come with me? I know you might not be able to drop everything, but if you want, we could make a few stops along the way.”

“When are you going?”

“About six weeks. I need to finish the FBI consulting training before I go.”

“I’ll go with you. I can ask Jasmine to step in for some things and I’ll sort the rest in advance.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “It’s been a while since our last road trip.”

“I don’t think those count, considering the circumstances,” Stiles laughs.

“There were trips, there were roads, they count.”

“Okay," Stiles says with a nod. "Cool. Yeah, cool. That’s gonna be cool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went on a very different direction than I expected, but you know, healing isn't a straight line.
> 
> As always, I hope y'all enjoyed this.
> 
> Kudos and comments give me life.


	6. Philia, Ludus, Eros, Agape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Road trip!!!

Six weeks later Derek stands by the loaded jeep, sunglasses shielding his eyes, waiting for Stiles so they can start their journey.

Stiles emailed him the itinerary seven times in the past five weeks, all with different degrees of variations between them. It started with 6 stops along the way, which turned into 8 and then 12 before Derek even replied to the first one. After Derek’s reply, somehow Stiles managed to increase the number to 16, but after Derek reminded him of their time frame the graduate dialled it down to 14. After Noah’s intervention, Stiles settled for 10.

Derek arrived that morning, which means that the werewolf is tired and Stiles will be the first one to drive. The two hug, then Derek helps him load the jeep. Two hours later they’re on the road.

They catch up on the last month and a half on the roads to Washington DC. The orphanage is still many months away from inauguration and Jasmine has mentioned more than once her wish to meet the infamous Stiles, the wonder-human of Beacon Hills. They spend the evening and morning in Washington, and Stiles is sure once again that he doesn’t want a future in that city.

They head to Miami the next afternoon. The next evening Stiles teases Derek - who’s driving - the entire way to New Orleans after the werewolf expresses his hatred for Disney World, all its noise and offensive smells. Derek shows Stiles where he used to live and after a short night of sleep, they have breakfast at Derek’s favourite cafe in town.

They make a quick stop at Huston so Stiles can visit Nasa’s Mission Control Centre. He insists on buying Derek a t-shirt, but the werewolf asks for a key chain instead as a compromise. He settles for buying himself a t-shirt and matching key-chains for him and Derek. They spend the afternoon and evening in San Antonio where Derek sleeps at the hotel and Stiles catches-up on his consulting work. At 11 pm they set off to Roswell. Derek drives, bathed in the near-full moon while Stiles sleeps among his things, sprawled in the back seat.

They stop for an alien-themed early lunch before heading to the hotel. Stiles is ecstatic, even with a bad shoulder - consequence of his awkward sleeping positions. Derek just wants a nap.

“One twin bedroom, please,” Stiles asks.

✤

Since they departed from New York a week ago, they haven’t shared a bed yet, or a kiss, or anything more than lingering touches in the privacy of the empty roads and cheap hotel rooms. It’s not that Stiles doesn’t want it or that it hasn’t crossed his mind, but he’s not yet sure about where he and Derek stand. He knows there’s love there, but to what kind, he’s been overthinking for way too long to be able to decide.

Somewhere between Washington and New Orleans, as Derek slept in the passenger seat, Stiles went over it in his head. Derek was a friend before he became anything else. They’ve shared their best and their worst with each other. But now their friendship feels like only part of a whole, as proved by their playful teasing and not so harmless flirting.

Still, two of Stiles’ best friends tiptoed that line with him before. His friendship with Annie started with a one night stand that grew into a deep friendship, but never crossed the metaphorical romantic line. And with Lydia, well, it was all backwards between the two. He was in love with her for years before a consequential friendship developed, and they dipped their toes into romance, only for that flame to burn bright and fade quickly, leaving Styles with the best friend he could have ever asked for.

But he knew, looking at Derek’s peaceful face as he slept, that this doesn’t feel the same as the others. He isn’t sure what the future holds or what Derek wants them to be, but he knows that the love he has for Derek is the kind that people write bad poetry about. The kind that turns sceptics into believers, because this love feels so much larger than himself that it almost convinces him of a higher power.

✤

“I’m sorry, we only have doubles left,” the man behind the counter says.

“Of course,” Stiles says chuckling, “that’s fine. We’ll take it.”

He hands the man his credit card and is checked-in in less than five minutes. Derek comes out of the car when he steps outside.

“They only had doubles,” Stiles says, handing Derek the keys.

“I don’t mind, it’s not like it’s the first time we share a bed,” he says and winks.

They grab their bags and head inside.

“I just need an hour’s sleep and I’ll be ready to go out,”

“No sweat dude. I’ll call dad and catch-up with some more work,” Stiles says, “Are you sure one hour is enough?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. It’s the full moon tonight, so it’s better if I use as much of my energy as possible,” he says, already lying down and rubbing his face against the pillow, ready to sleep.

Stiles watches him for an entire minute, before leaving the room to call his father.

✤

They spend hours in the International UFO Museum. They visit the planetarium and have another alien-themed meal. Derek doesn’t understand Stiles' fascination with it, but Stiles counters that if werewolves of all things are real, alien contact might as well be true. Derek’s not happy with the comparison.

They head back to the hotel in the evening, but they’re barely inside the room when Derek announces he’s gonna go for a run. He asks for the jeep so he can drive to a more remote area where he can fully shift safely.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea?”

“Don’t worry, unlike California, there  _ are _ wolves in New Mexico.”

“Yeah but you’re not really a wolf, what if someone decides to shoot you?”

“That’s why I’m going out of town to shift.”

“I should go with you,” Stiles insists.

“I’ll be fine, Stiles. It’s not the first time I run alone.”

Stiles feels hurt for some reason.

“I’m sorry, it’s-”

“The full moon, yeah I get it.”

“No,” Derek says, "that's not," he huffs, "I'll be worried if you're out there alone in the middle of nowhere."

After everything Stiles has gone through, it's almost cute that something so mundane would worry Derek. But that's the exact reason he doesn't want Derek to go alone.

“So will I," he says softly, "Be careful.”

Derek walks over to him and kisses him on the forehead, “I’ll be back soon,” he says.

“I’ll be here,” Stiles replies.

✤

It’s close to 2 am when Derek returns. His clothes are clean but the same can’t be said about his face, neck and arms. He’s surprised to find Stiles still awake, watching a TV show on his laptop in bed.

They say their hello's and Stiles asks about the run. Derek replies and asks what the younger man is watching. Then he jumps in the shower and when he comes back, sporting only pyjama pants, Stiles feels his mouth water.

He doesn't know if it's because of Derek's freshly exercised body, or the fact that even after a shower he smells of the outside night air, or even the latent energy under the werewolf's skin Stiles can sense like a hum, but he just can't look away.

He closes his laptop and puts it on the bedside table. He lies down, quietly debating with himself.

"Is everything okay?" Derek asks, lying beside him.

"Yeah," he says, "just thinking."

"You should be careful with that."

Stiles huffs a laugh.

“What are you thinking about?” Derek asks.

Stiles shakes his head, smiling softly at the werewolf. He wets his lips and says, “It’s nothing. G’night, Der.” 

Derek stares at him for a moment before he says, "Good night," and turns off the lights.

Derek lies with his back turned to him. Stiles can see the triskelion on his back in the dim light coming through the thin curtains on the window. He fights the urge to trace it with his fingers.

He feels frustration grow in his stomach. How does he tell Derek that the months they spend apart grow longer and longer in his heart? How should he tell him that he wants to ask for double bedrooms instead of twins at every hotel they stop? How can he ask Derek if he feels the same way without risking everything?

Stiles will take Derek as he comes, in whatever way the werewolf wants to be loved. Because Stiles does love the man in every way that matters.

Still, he can't help but to want more. He reaches out, touching Derek's back with his index and middle finger. He slowly traces the spirals on his tattoo. Derek doesn't speak, but he takes a deep breath and Stiles feels a cold twitch in his belly.

He moves closer, nuzzling the nape of Derek's neck and letting his free hand roam over the werewolf's bare torso. He kisses the spot where Derek's shoulder meets his neck and he feels the man shudder under his touch. Stiles' body responds to the adrenaline of the moment and the other man's reactions as if answering a call.

When his hand ventures lower over Derek's front, he hears a low hum coming from Derek's throat and the man's hands tighten their grip on the bedsheets.

Stiles stops because he has to be sure.

"Der?" He whispers.

"Hm?"

"Do you want this?"

Instead of answering, Derek turns to face him. Stiles' breath catches when he sees Derek's blue eyes shining like neon in the dark.

"Yes," he says, low and rumbling.

"Your eyes," Stiles says, touching his face.

"It's okay, I won't shift or hurt you."

"I know you won't," Stiles says softly, "Are you okay?"

Derek nods. "I want this," he says again and closes his eyes. When they open, they're hazel again. "The full moon just makes everything… more," Derek tries to explain, "But if it makes you uncomfortable-"

"No. No, it doesn't make me uncomfortable," Stiles rushes to say, "I trust you, you don't have to hold back," he whispers.

Derek nods and Stiles kisses him like he's been wanting to for days. He shifts them so Derek's lying on his back, without breaking away. The kiss is long, deep, and a little desperate, like a gasp of air after being underwater for too long. When Derek opens his eyes, they're blue again. Stiles wants to keep them that way.

He still doesn't know every way Derek likes to be touched, so he takes his time. He explores every inch of Derek's body, attentive to every response. Like an artist working a masterpiece, every angle, curve, dip and shadow receives its deserved attention.

When Derek stutters and calls his name, he does so with a voice so broken and pleading, Stiles knows he'll never hear something so beautiful from anyone else ever again. There's no coming back from what he found with Derek.

He can't bring himself to let go of Derek even after the werewolf's breathing evens out and he falls asleep.

Derek's still in his arms at sunrise.

✤

After that, it's like all the pieces fall into place. Derek kisses him against the jeep before walking over to the passenger seat and they hit the road. He lets his hand rest on Stiles' thigh as the human drives and play-fights with him over music choices.

They drive through Monument Valley and stop at one of the campsites. They put up a tent, or Derek does, while Stiles constantly tells him how he should be doing it differently. Derek growls at some point, causing Stiles to laugh victoriously and a couple of other campers stare at them.

Derek practically tackles Stiles once the human is inside, scrutinising Derek's job. The human yelps and falls over, cursing and laughing, clinging to Derek at the same time as he pushes him away. Derek promises there'll be payback and leaves him on the ground to pick up the rest of their things from the jeep.

✤

Once Stiles sets both sleeping bags on the ground, he hears Derek talking to someone outside of the tent.

"We're going for a run tonight if you'd like to join us," a woman's voice says.

"Thank you, but I'm with someone," Derek replies.

"Yes, the human," she says, "he can join us, of course. We have humans in our pack who won't be running tonight."

"Hi," Stiles says, leaving the tent, "Stiles, the human," he says, extending his hand.

"Karina," the woman says. She smiles and shakes his hand. A young boy and a teenage girl are standing just behind her.

"It's unusual for wolves to travel without others of our kind, especially so close to the full moon, so you'll be more than welcome to join us tonight," she says, "Both of you."

"Thank you, we might pop by," Stiles says, casually.

"We're over there," she points at a cluster of five tents a little ways away from the rest of the camp, "in case you decide to come."

"Thank you," Derek says again.

In the tent, Stiles waits two whole minutes before he asks Derek if he wants to join them. He hopes by now the other werewolves are no longer in earshot.

"I don't want to leave you alone in the camp," Derek says.

"I won't be alone though. I'll be with the other humans," he says, "stop frowning, it's a simple question. Do you want to go?" Derek shrugs. "I'll be fine if that's what's stopping you." Derek looks away from him. "Hey," Stiles says, holding Derek's face in his hands, "you don't have to go if you don't want to, but don't stay in tonight just because of me. I can handle myself too, remember? Saved your furry ass multiple times. Besides, when was the last time you ran with a pack? The cult gathering in New York?" Derek rolls his eyes. "Come on Der, talk to me."

Derek exhales slowly, removing Stiles’ hands from his face and holding them, "Okay, we can join them," he says.

Stiles shoots him a wide smile in response.

✤

Later that night the two join the large pack at the edge of the campsite. Stiles follows the werewolves with two other humans - James and Ashley - out of the camp and away from prying human eyes. 

The five werewolves remove jackets, shoes and shirts and hand them to the humans. Derek, in turn, undresses to his boxers, causing curious eyes to fall on him. Karina - the alpha - shifts first, then her betas and then Derek, the only one who can fully shift into a wolf. The werewolves howl happily at the sight and the excitement is clear in Ashley's and James' eyes.

Once the three humans lose the wolves from sight, they turn back to the camp to wait for their return. Counting Stiles, six people remain at camp including the young boy from earlier, unhappy for being left behind due to his age. They are all partners or close family members of the werewolves they can hear howling in the distance.

Stiles drinks with them around the bonfire, he watches them and reminisces about his pack, scattered around the world. He wonders if Isaac will ever come back. He can't wait for the day he and Scott are once more living less than an hour's drive from each other. He's resigned to the fact that Lydia will never settle in one place. He misses Kira, Malia and even Cora more than he cares to admit. He even misses annoying the shit out of Jackson and rolling his eyes at the teen drama of the younger members.

At least Derek’s close to him.

"It's a long way from New York to California," James, Karina's husband, says, "what's the plan?"

"I wanna be closer to my dad. It's been hard on both of us, the past four years. I'm starting grad school next month."

"Is your partner from California too?"

"My wha- he's not, we've just, it's-" Stiles takes a deep breath gathering his thoughts. Who is he kidding? "Yeah, he is. But… it's still recent," he says, "I mean we've known each other for years but it was never like that. Then it was a little like that and now we're kinda that, but we haven't even talked about it yet. I guess we’re still figuring it out?"

"It's all right kid," James says, "you don't have to explain it to me. You two just seem close, that's all."

"It shows that you've known each other for a long time," Ashley, one of the partners says. Stiles looks at them waiting for an explanation. "He's off guard around you. A wolf doesn't trust like that easily. Even when there is romance," they say.

"I think you make a beautiful couple," Amy, Karina's sister, says.

Stiles blushes, "Thanks. Though Derek's the one doing the heavy lifting on that front," he says with a huffed laugh.

"Aw, stop it. You got a lot going on too. Not everyone is into tall, dark and brooding," Amy counters.

"Thank god for that," Stiles and James say in unison.

Derek's still in his wolf form when he comes back to the camp. He approaches Stiles, who presses their noses and foreheads together. He notices the others around him do the same with their loved ones.

He tells Derek where to find his clothes and the wolf enters the tent specified. Derek comes back a few minutes later, in all his glorious human form, dressed and he sits beside Stiles.

✤

"You can fully shift," Karina says, once they're all sitting around the bonfire, sharing a meal, "That's a rare gift."

"Yeah, it runs in the family. My mother and my older sister were able to do it too," Derek says.

"I don't think I caught your name," Amy says.

"Derek," he says, and when she doesn't say anything he continues, "Hale."

"Hale as in Talia Hale?" James asks, surprised.

"Did you know my mother?"

"We know of her," Karina says, "and we've also heard of you. The son of Talia who gave up his alpha spark to save his sister. It's an honour to run with you."

Stiles notices Derek blush in the corner of his eye. It's terribly endearing.

"What about you?" She asks, looking at Stiles.

"Oh I'm just Stiles," he says.

Derek huffs a laugh.

Karina seems intrigued. "And how does 'just Stiles' find himself deep in our world?"

He shrugs. "Wrong place at the right time? My best friend got unwillingly bitten in highschool. Someone had to keep him alive."

"You were the one keeping a bitten beta werewolf alive?" Amy asks, sounding sceptical and impressed at the same time.

"Scott's a true alpha," Derek says.

"He's a true idiot with a heart of gold, that's what he is," Stiles counters, remembering every shit show he and his brother from another mother went through.

"A true alpha as your best friend and an evolved Hale by your side. It’s hard to believe you're 'just' something," Karina says.

"Cross my heart," he says with his mouth full, "I'm just vicariously interesting. I mean I can stand my ground, sure, but we got all sorts of cool people in our pack. Werewolves, a banshee, a kitsune, a werecoyote, and even a half-werewolf half-kanima," he continues and turns to Derek, "Never tell Jackson I said he was pack," then back again to the others, "But for me? I'm just human. Just Stiles."

Everyone but Derek looks at him. They don't seem convinced. They know people don't end up being the only human in a pack by being ordinary.

"Stiles is the one that keeps us together," Derek says, "he's also too modest to realise that he's the smartest of all of us."

"Thanks, but that would be Lydia," Stiles says. 

"Lydia might be the most intelligent," Derek says, rolling his eyes, "but you're the smart one," then, turning back to the others, "He  _ is  _ human, and that only makes him better."

It's Stiles' turn to blush and look away.

"That's more like it," Karina says, smiling at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the second most difficult chapter of this story. I ended up rewriting it twice. Let's hope it was worth it!
> 
> Kudos and comments give me life.


	7. Let's Go Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Stiles has a plan, they break down in the middle of nowhere, and it's perfect.

They say their goodbyes to the pack the next day after visiting the Antelope Canyon and part to Yellowstone. After that, they'll make their way to San Francisco, so Stiles can see for the first time in years where Derek lives. Finally, they'll arrive in Beacon Hills, where Stiles will stay for a week before heading to UCI.

"We should go to Seattle," Stiles says, once they're settled in their hotel late at night after visiting Yellowstone National Park.

Derek raises his eyes from his book, sitting on the room's double bed, and says, "Seattle?"

"Yeah. It was in the itinerary before," Stiles says, "it would only add a day and a half to the trip, we have time."

The werewolf watches him for a moment. If he's being honest with himself, he doesn't want the road trip to end. He likes seeing Stiles every day, having him this close. So he agrees.

✤

"Come on, we gotta leave now if we want to get to Seattle with time to do something today," Derek shouts at Stiles from outside the hotel room at six in the morning.

"Just one minute!" Stiles shouts back from inside. Two minutes later he emerges, swinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"What took you so long?"

"You'll have to wait and see," Stiles says with a big smile.

✤

They are halfway to Seattle when Derek notices something wrong with the car.

"We should stop, something feels off," Derek says, touching the dashboard.

"With Roscoe?"

"Yeah, it doesn't sound right. We should stop at the next gas station."

"She's an old lady, of course she sounds weird. It's been a while since she gave me any trouble."

"It's been a while since you drove this distance with her," Derek counters.

"She'll be fine. We can take a look when we get to Seattle."

"Why are you being stubborn about this." It’s structured like a question, but the way Derek says it makes it sound like a statement.

"How dare  _ you _ , Derek Hale, call me stubborn," Stiles says, feigning affront, "I am being perfectly reasonable."

"You're deflecting," Derek deadpans.

"Am not! I know this car like the back of my hand. She won't let us down."

"If we keep going we might not even get to Seattle," he says.

Stiles looks at him, exaggeratedly shocked, "You take that back! Don't you dare jinx our Seattle trip, Sourwolf."

Derek rolls his eyes, "Fine, I take it back. But I still think we should stop."

"We'll be fine, you'll see," Stiles says, and under his breath he continues, "We'll show him, right baby?" He asks Roscoe.

Derek smiles and shakes his head.

✤

They're just across Idaho's border when the jeep gives up, stopping loudly in a cloud of white smoke in the middle of nowhere.

Derek stares at Stiles, who's gently banging his head against the wheel. He opens his mouth, but Stiles interrupts him.

"If you're thinking of saying 'I told you so' you better be ready to walk back to Beacon Hills alone."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Derek says, with a smirk, "Open the bonnet, let's take a look."

✤

Derek stares cluelessly at the amount of duct tape holding the jeep together for a long time. He's surprised they've gotten this far.

"The tow truck will be here in two hours," Stiles says, "so much for dinner," he says, leaning against the jeep.

"What about dinner?"

Stiles chews on the inside of his cheek before he says, "I made a reservation at this fancy restaurant in Seattle for tonight."

Derek raises a questioning eyebrow.

“What would you call this?” Stiles asks motioning at the space between them. He’s not angry, but he sounds a little tired, like he’s having to explain something obvious to an oblivious child.

Derek furrows his eyebrows and answers lowly, looking at the engine to avoid Stiles’ gaze, “I thought we were… together? Dating?” He shrugs, but he looks a little panicked from the way his shoulders tense and he glares at the car like it’s offended him.

"Yes! Great! Worrying use of the past tense there, but we’ll get back to that later,” Stiles says animatedly. It’s enough to remove some of the tension on the werewolf’s back. He stares at Stiles. “That’s what I was hoping. That we’re together. That we’re dating. Except!” He punctuates, raising a finger as if this is a breakthrough realisation, “We've never been on a date," is Stiles' explanation.

Derek opens his mouth to argue because they've been on plenty of dates in the past month, thank you very much. But then he notices that no, they actually haven't. Not really. Not explicitly.

Derek doesn't care about dates. Compared to everything else he and Stiles have gone through, dates are unimportant details for him, too small to make a difference. But maybe to Stiles, they matter, and Derek's annoyed with himself for not thinking about it before.

"We never even talked about it, you know? So I was gonna take you out to an early dinner, lay it all out in the open and hopefully you’d say you feel the same, then we’d probably try and fail to get a ticket to go up the Space Needle, maybe have ice-cream before going back to the hotel - a nice one, for a change - and then I’d let you do to me all the things you know I like because I know you love it when I hand myself to you like that,” he finishes, breathless and red in the face.

Derek’s stunned shut, blushing from his ears to his neck.

Stiles recovers his breath and says, “I just wanted to end the trip with something special,” he half-heartedly kicks the wheel of the jeep and continues, “I'm gonna go for a walk and call my dad to let him know we broke down."

Derek watches him walk away with an unsettling feeling in his heart. Stiles had all this planned in his head and Derek was completely oblivious to it. He can’t stand to see Stiles disappointed like this. He wants to make it up to Stiles so bad, but he doesn't know how to.

✤

The tow truck arrives and they're taken to a repair shop. They say that to fix the jeep properly it will take a few days, as they'll need to order replacement parts. When Stiles makes an exasperated noise and Derek explains they don't have that much time, the mechanic says he can probably fix it enough to get them some more miles, but he can't guarantee they won't break down before they reach San Francisco.

They agree to get the jeep fixed as much as possible, and Derek offers to help with the job so they can leave in the evening.

✤

"I didn't know you knew that much about cars," Stiles says, watching Derek work. It's extremely unfair that Derek's so attractive, even covered in grease.

"I used to help my dad. Ended up learning a few things," he pauses wiping his hands on a rag, "Wanna give me a hand or do you prefer to sit and watch?" He winks.

"As much as I've missed the whole rugged tank top look," Stiles says, Derek rolls his eyes, "No, really, I mean it. It takes me back. But I'll do anything to get back on the road as soon as possible."

Derek nods and Stiles joins him.

✤

Later, Stiles walks into town to buy them either a very late lunch or a very early dinner. On his way back, Derek calls him.

_ "The car's running again. I had to leave the repair shop. I sent you my location on Whatsapp. You shouldn't be too far," _ he says.

"Oh good, I was starting to think that we'd need to wait until tomorrow. I'll be there asap."

Stiles finds Derek sitting at a picnic table. One of Stiles’ bedsheets serves as a towel and Derek's laid out unmatching cutlery, glasses and plates Stiles recognises as the ones he packed away from his New York apartment. There are two oil based improvised lamps on the table and Stiles is sure that that’s a fire hazard. A cheap bottle of wine stands to one side.

"What's this?" Stiles asks, grinning, as he places the bags with burgers on the table.

"It's a date," Derek says, placing their meals on the plates, “as you can see by the fifty dollar bottle of wine.”

Stiles sits down across from Derek and says, “Please tell me you didn’t pay fifty bucks for that.”

“I bought it from one of the mechanics. According to him, I should be glad he even agreed to sell it to me.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a fifty dollar bottle of wine,” Stiles says, playing along. He pours himself and Derek a glass and takes a sip. “Holy shit,” he says, “this is…”

“It’s like drinking vinegar,” Derek says.

They look at each other and burst out laughing.

"I got beer," Stiles says, reaching for it in a shopping bag and placing it on the table.

“Yes please,” Derek asks, "I couldn't find candles at the repair shop, so I improvised these." Derek frowns.

Stiles sniffs at them and says, smiling, “Very aromatic.”

Derek raises his brows and nods in enthusiastic agreement. Stiles knows that if the smell is bad for him, for Derek’s sensitive nose it's much worse.

Derek opens a can of beer and waits for Stiles to start eating before he says, "I know this is nothing compared to what you had planned. I'm sorry I didn't realise this was important to you."

Stiles blinks at him repeatedly with his mouth full of food. He swallows it practically without chewing so he can speak quickly.

"Are you kidding? I love everything about this, even the fifty dollar bottle of vinegar. Nay,  _ especially _ the vinegar.” Derek huffs a laugh, “Seriously, no apologies, dude, we’ll have our fancy date later. This is so much better. It’s very… us in a way. It's perfect"

"Don't call the man you're on a date with, dude," Derek says, but then smiles softly.

"You're sorely mistaken if you think I'm gonna stop calling you dude because of that."

He watches Derek take a bite of his burger.

"What are you going to do after we go back?" Stiles asks, "I know there's still a lot to do for the orphanage, but,” Stiles shrugs, “are you gonna stay in San Francisco for a while?"

"I don't know," Derek says, "I know I can’t see you only once every two or three months anymore. After this, it’s gonna be hard enough not seeing you every day."

Stiles reaches out for Derek's hand. "I'll come to San Francisco to visit you and you can stay with me on campus when you come visit if you want. Maybe next year I can rent an apartment by myself and you can stay over whenever you want," he says.

"I'd like that," Derek agrees.

They're quiet for a few minutes before Stiles speaks again.

"Does that mean I should call you my boyfriend now?"

Derek frowns, "I guess that's the word, even though it sounds like we’re teenagers."

"Would you rather I call you my lover?" Stiles asks, wiggling his eyebrows, "Or my one and only?"

"Stiles," Derek protests, pained.

"My moon and stars? My sun? My dearest beloved?"

"If you don't stop I'm stealing your car and going back alone," Derek says in a deep shade of red.

"Can you afford to become a criminal yet again?" Stiles asks, amused.

" _Alleged_ criminal."

Stiles laughs loudly, holding his stomach with both hands. He stops, a smile lingering on his lips, after a beat he says softly, "You can call me yours."

Derek smiles shyly, looking down.

✤

Later, when they've packed their things and Stiles sits on the driver's seat, Derek turns to him and asks, "Seattle?"

"No," Stiles says, running his fingers through Derek's hair, "That was the perfect first date to end this trip. Let's go home."

Derek leans over then and kisses him slowly. He gets so into the kiss that when Derek moves back, he has to blink a few times and clear his throat before starting the car.

✤

Stiles drives until he starts struggling to keep his eyes open. He wakes Derek up, who's been sound asleep in the passenger seat, and asks him to take over. Derek's rested and his beta eyes are better suited to the dark anyway, so he does the majority of the drive, only waking Stiles up when he's parked the jeep in his building's garage in San Francisco.

They drop their bags in the living room and Derek gives Stiles a quick tour of the two-bedroom apartment. It's… minimalistic. It's tasteful but a little sterile. It has everything Derek needs, but no more than that.

They finish the tour in Derek's bedroom and as soon as they enter the room, Stiles has both hands in fists on Derek's shirt, firmly but carefully pushing him against the wall. Derek makes a throaty sound and his eyes shine blue momentarily when Stiles presses against his body.

"You've no idea for how long I've wanted to do this," Stiles says humorously. He's all smiles, but there's an unmistakable shine in his eyes.

"When you imagined doing this did you always imagine kissing me after?" Derek asks, cocking his head to the side.

Stiles shrugs, but doesn't let go, "Only about half of the time."

"And now?" Derek asks with a smirk.

Stiles closes the distance between them slowly. He lets his hands down, placing them on Derek's sides. They kiss lazily, like a Sunday morning, like time itself doesn't exist, like it's just what they do, like it's meant to be.

Stiles moves away before he opens his eyes.

"You must be exhausted," he says.

Derek nods and can't stop his yawn. Stiles chuckles.

"Go take a shower and go to bed. I'll text my dad and be right behind you."

Derek nods, kisses his temple and leaves the room.

✤

Hours later Stiles wakes up with his phone ringing.

"Hey dad," he says quietly, getting up, "everything okay?

_ "Hi son, yeah, everything is fine. Just wanted to check what time you'll be arriving tomorrow." _

Stiles closes the bedroom door behind him, before replying. Derek can obviously still hear him if he wants to, but it's easier for the werewolf to shut down the noise and keep sleeping like this.

"We'll probably arrive around lunchtime."

_ "Good, I'll put something on the grill for when you two get here. Derek's staying for lunch, right?" _

It barely sounds like a question, making his father's wishes clear.

"Yeah, he is. He's staying in town for the week."

_ "Oh? Everything okay with the orphanage?" _

"Yeah yeah, everything's fine. He's got some paperwork to do, but otherwise all good."

_ "So you've just not had enough time to get tired of each other," _ the sheriff says, laughing.

"I guess not," Stiles smiles, then both go quiet. "We uh," Stiles starts, feeling a spike in his heart rate, "we're together. I guess we were already kind of together before, but we're, like, together for real now. Though that makes it sound like we weren't being real before. Official? That sounds too much like a business. I could say dating but really we've only been on one date and it's more than  _ just _ dating, it's not like we've just met and are going out to get to know each-"

_ "Son?" _ Noah interrupts him.

It's not the first time Stiles tells his dad that he's with a guy. But it's the first time he tells his dad that he's with Derek. And it's the first time that he desperately needs his dad to be okay with this. He needs his dad to know that he's serious about Derek.

"Yeah?" Stiles asks.

_ "I'm happy for you. You're good for each other." _

"Thanks," he exhales and realises he was holding his breath.

_ "You seem happy. You know that's all that matters to me. Besides, you need someone who can keep up with your shit." _

"Hey!" He protests, even though he knows it's true.

They laugh.

_ "Mel's calling me downstairs. I'll see you tomorrow, kiddo." _

"See you tomorrow, dad."

When Stiles enters the bedroom, Derek's looking at him smugly.

✤

The two spend the afternoon and most of the next morning in San Francisco. They have dinner at a nice restaurant and this time the wine is actually good. Later they watch the sunset by the water and get ice cream before returning to Derek’s apartment. Once inside, Stiles knows what is waiting for him and he feels butterflies in his stomach, not for the first time in the presence of Derek. By the way that Derek looks at him and gently pulls him closer by the hand, Stiles thinks the werewolf feels the same.

✤

They get into Roscoe late the next morning, but the jeep refuses to start, so they pack everything into Derek's Toyota and Derek promises he'll get the jeep fixed and take good care of her until she and Stiles reunite.

Lydia, Kira and Malia are invited to the barbecue. Parrish makes a quick appearance an hour in and is grateful for the burger Noah hid away for him. When Scott catches Stiles and Derek kissing in the kitchen while doing the dishes, he lifts two thumbs up in Stiles' direction wearing the brightest, dopiest of smiles.

Later, Stiles plays poker with Scott, Lydia, Malia and Melissa and gets his ass handed to him. Noah, Derek and Kira watch the baseball game on the TV.

Stiles can't stop himself from smiling. This is his pack, his family. They made it. They're happy.

✤

Derek stays at one of his apartments during the week he spends in Beacon Hills. Stiles stays over a couple of nights and they go on their third date.

Jasmine and her pack are introduced to Stiles, and the woman seems confused at first. Stiles wasn't exactly what she expected. But by the end of the day, after they've shared stories and Stiles has helped her with her future plans, she's able to see through the slightly awkward, definitely clumsy and loud exterior and recognise Stiles for who he truly is.

In the absence of Roscoe, Derek drives Stiles to UCI and spends the first night with him. They reluctantly part ways in the morning, and Derek goes back to San Francisco.

He lasts all of two months in San Francisco before making the decision to move to Beacon Hills so he can be more involved with the orphanage project and be closer to Stiles. When his boyfriend asks him if this is a temporary move, Derek says he doesn’t know.

They see each other every weekend, and a lot of weekdays too, only skipping the days when Stiles is stuck with assignments or Derek is travelling on orphanage business.

They make it work, and the months pass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing the first half of this chapter was really hard, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing the second half.
> 
> Kudos and comments give me life.


	8. The Epilogue of a Story Is Merely the Prologue of the Next

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The orphanage is opened, there is a surprise and everyone is happy.

Seven months after he moves to Beacon Hills, Derek stands alone at the centre of the dark main hall. Jasmine's gone home hours before. In two months the first children and teens will start to arrive. In two months and one week they'll officially open the place.

But for now, Derek stands alone at the centre of the dark main hall, where once his family's living room stood, where once he shared his life with Laura, Cora, his mother, his father and even Peter.

His heart aches a dull pain. A ghost of the guilt, sadness and fear he once felt. A pain he's grown used to. A pain he learned to accept and in doing so let it settle underneath his heart, in the back of his mind. Sometimes he can almost forget it. Almost.

But he's not sad. Not really. He knows now that he's done the best he could with what life threw at him. He feels like for once in his life he's done a good thing. That if this can help even only a handful of supernatural kids to find a family, a place in which they can be safe, where they belong, Derek's life will have been worth it.

He hopes his parents and Laura are proud of him.

Cora's coming for the opening with Luisa, her now fiancée. She’ll use this opportunity to introduce Luisa to the Hales' history, all her legacy and the trauma that’s accompanied that name for over a decade. Luisa needs to know, she deserves to know, if she’s gonna become part of the family.

Derek invited several people from several packs for the opening. Even Karina’s pack, with whom he and Stiles have kept contact. He has obviously invited the entire Beacon Hills pack, it doesn’t matter how far away they are. He even invited Isaac. 

"I thought I'd find you here," Derek hears.

"How did you get in here?" He asks Stiles as he turns around.

"I'm intimate with one of the patrons," Stiles winks.

"That better not be Jasmine. I've heard she's married," Derek deadpans.

"Asshole," Stiles laughs and kisses him, "you didn't hear me coming?"

"Most of the building is soundproof. I'd be able to hear you talking, but not just footsteps."

"Smart."

"I thought you were coming home next week," Derek says.

"I still have an assignment to submit on Monday but figured you'd probably be needing some company tonight, so I asked the professor to submit it over email. When I didn't find you at the apartment I knew you'd be here."

"And why is that?"

"Come on Der, don't insult my intelligence like that. I know how to read a calendar."

"Am I that predictable?"

"No. I'm just that good at knowing you," Stiles says smugly.

Derek doesn't argue.

"What do you want to do tonight then?" Stiles asks.

"I got some boxes from the storage sent to me last week," he says and starts walking, extending his hand so Stiles can hold it, "haven't had the courage to go through them yet."

"Take out and cuddles through 'ye ole memory lane' it is," Stiles says.

✤

The last time Stiles saw Derek cry was the night after they cleared the apartment in New York, when Derek's pain felt so sharp and uncontrollable Stiles thought it would rip the man from the inside.

This time, sitting on the living room floor of Derek's apartment, with Derek sitting between his legs and his back pressing against his chest, Derek seems to let the pain wash over him, flowing like waves, coming and going, not letting it consume him.

In the end, he finds what he was looking for. The old picture of his pack that lived in Laura's scrapbook. He'll make a copy of it, he explains, and place it on the main wall of the main hall of the orphanage. The Hale House.

Jasmine had insisted on the name. Derek felt too grateful to refuse a second time.

Stiles still holds him until the morning, just in case Derek wakes up in the middle of the night. In the same way that Derek always holds him when he wakes up screaming from one of his residual nightmares.

✤

The opening, two months and a week later, has practically the whole town showing up. Noah and a few other dads operate the grills. Melissa and other townspeople bring several dishes to contribute. A bouncy castle and a trampoline are placed close to the main house. They end up raising a lot of money.

Several supernatural creatures from all around the country also gather in and around Beacon Hills that week, with Derek's and Scott's blessings, of course. Scott’s, because he is the true alpha of Beacon Hills and Derek’s, because his family’s connection to that soil goes so far back that it’s almost like the latent magic in it is the same as the one in his blood.

Derek and Scott complete each other in that way, one owning what the other lacks. And it seems that the land approves its ruling by the two werewolves, Parrish brought it up first, saying that he didn’t sense so much darkness in the air anymore. After that Lydia started paying attention, and she notices that the banshee within her seems to have found peace.

Scott is pleased with the outcome. Derek, tired as he is of the pain, takes the win without much protest. Stiles is tentatively optimistic, and in his spare time, he starts to read about emissaries, their roles, and if they’re ever humans. Lydia thinks they should turn Beacon Hills, with all its deadly history, into a neutral ground, a safe haven for supernatural refuge and negotiations. Between Scott, Derek, Stiles, Lydia and Parrish, they think they could do it. If they really wanted to.

Derek's starting to seriously think about it now that the orphanage is open and Stiles is just one academic year away from receiving his master's degree.

✤

He welcomes Karina, James and a few other of their pack members to the house, trying hard not to blush at the alpha’s high praise. Her posture reminds him of his mother, commanding, but not imposing. He likes her.

When they move inside, Derek scents the air looking for Jasmine. He finds her not too far away, laughing animatedly while Luisa talks to her protruding belly and Cora stands beside them. His sister sends him an awkward smile when she catches his eyes and he laughs. 

"Derek!" Stiles calls him, "Look who I found!"

Derek sees Stiles practically dragging a clueless looking Isaac in his direction. Derek raises his eyebrows disbelievingly.

"Didn't I tell you he'd be speechless?!" Stiles asks Isaac.

"Just because you don't shut up it doesn't mean that when someone else is quiet it's because they're speechless," Isaac says without heat.

"I forgot how annoying you were," Stiles says, but Derek knows he's secretly happy.

"You seem well. I didn't think you'd come," Derek says.

"Scott!" Stiles shouts, waving at his friend, "Hey, Scotty! Isaac is here!" He continues and walks away.

"I was surprised when I saw the invitation," Isaac says, "then I was curious."

Derek nods, "Are you staying long?"

"A couple of weeks."

The silence that forms between them is awkward.

"I'm sorry," Derek blurts out, "I know I'm too many years too late and you don't have to accept my apology. But I'm sorry for how I treated you back then."

Isaac stares at him wide-eyed. His surprise, obvious.

"Thanks," he says, after a while, "you did a good thing here, Derek."

Stiles and Scott come back laughing loudly and carrying hotdogs for the four of them.

"You better have paid for that," Derek says.

"What do you take me for, Sourwolf? I don't steal money from children. I am so unappreciated. I've paid _money_ to get you a hotdog and that's all the thanks I get? An unfounded accusation against my pristine character?" Stiles rants overdramatically.

“There’s nothing pristine about you,” Derek says, rolling his eyes. He smirks at Stiles’ outraged expression and kisses him if only to shut him up, "Thank you," he says.

"That's better," Stiles says, satisfied.

And of all the surprises Isaac had that day, that's the one that breaks him. He chokes on his hotdog and coughs loudly, catching the attention of the people around them. Scott taps him on the back innocently.

"You weren't joking," he says to Stiles, after he catches his breath.

"People should really start taking me seriously," Stiles replies.

✤

When the sun starts to set and the majority of people have already left, Derek finds Stiles helping his dad fit the grill in the car so he can take it home.

"Thank you for everything," Derek tells Noah.

"No problem, son. It's for a good cause," he says, then turning towards Stiles, he asks, "Are you coming home tonight?"

Stiles looks over his dad's shoulder to where Derek stands, practically stone still, minutely shaking his head no.

"I'm going to Derek's if that's okay," he says, finding his dad's eyes.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then. Be safe. You too, Derek."

They all hug goodbye when Melissa joins them.

"Have we got plans for tonight that I don't know about?" Stiles asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

"There's something I want to show you."

"Oh?" Stiles asks, eyebrows stopping high on his forehead.

"The orphanage's not the only thing I've been working on these past months," he says and holds Stiles' hand.

✤

They walk for twenty minutes before they reach a clearing. There's a house on the west side of it, facing east.

"Where are we?"

"Still at the preserve," Derek says.

As they approach, Stiles notices that the house isn't yet finished. The walls, roof, outer doors and windows are all in place, but the house is still bare and some construction materials lie to one side of the house.

"Though this part is still mine," Derek continues, “Cora and I formally divided between us what wasn’t donated to the orphanage, in case we wanted to use or sell the land. She lost a bet so I kept the clearing.”

He takes a set of keys from his pockets and opens the front door. The inside walls are also bare. The flooring is done, but apart from the kitchen fittings, there are no furniture or appliances in view. A solo cardboard box sits on one of the kitchen counters.

Derek walks him through every empty room. The study, which in reality will be more like a small library, the ample kitchen with a door to the back, and one of the bathrooms are found downstairs. On the second floor, there’s a second bathroom, spare bedroom number one, reserved for Cora when she visits, spare bedroom number two, for any pack member who visits or any lost teen who falls out of the system and doesn't land on their feet, and an ensuite bedroom.

The ensuite bedroom is the last room Derek shows Stiles.

"And this," Derek says, "is our bedroom. If you want it to be."

Stiles simply stares at him, opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish. "Do you mean it the way I think you mean it?" The human asks.

Derek huffs a laugh at Stiles' eloquence. "I think I do," he says and throws a set of keys in Stiles' direction.

"As in you and me living here together?" Stiles continues in his disbelief, “As in this is our house?”

"I'm pretty sure we can get it finished before you get out of grad school. I didn't want to get too much of it done without your input. I want it to feel as much yours as mine."

Stiles is positively speechless. Derek's done it. He achieved the impossible. Stiles has lost the ability to speak.

"Obviously you don't have to say yes," Derek frowns, starting to worry this is too much too soon, "I was just thinking about what I wanted to do next, and… I want to stay in Beacon Hills. As you said once, this is my family's land after all. Jasmine asked me to help the kids with training and anchoring, especially after the baby is born. I figured it's time I stopped running," he pauses, "because I have a reason to stay. I want you. I want the rest of my life to be with you."

Stiles has tears in his eyes, so Derek approaches him gently placing a hand on Stiles' cheek and pushes through the fear knotted in his throat.

"You _must_ know by now," he whispers, "I'm sure you know that I love you. I don’t say it like you deserve to hear it, because these words were used against me one too many times, but...” He composes himself, before continuing, “...I know you feel it anyway. And I want to make you as happy as you make me. So if this is too much I-"

"No," Stiles interrupts, vehemently shaking his head, "No, this is not too much. Derek, this is…You make me so fucking happy and I-” he chokes, “Of course I want to live here with you, of course I want to finish our house together and shelter random supernatural kids that need our help and have my own library where we can do research and take meetings with other packs and sign peace treaties and, and it's like a 5-minute drive from my dad too, and Der, the thought of waking up with you every morning-” He takes a shaky deep breath, “Yes, yes how could I not want all that?"

Derek sighs in relief, "Good," he laughs wetly.

"Oh my god I can't believe you thought even for a second I'd say no," he says, wiping his face with his sleeves.

"I didn't want to assume," Derek says sheepishly, getting closer.

"You're an idiot," Stiles says before he kisses Derek.

The kiss is slow. Stiles has learned that this is how Derek kisses him when he’s at his happiest. Like he's trying to savour it.

They part only for a second before Stiles is bringing them back together because his happiness demands it. Derek holds him like he’s the most precious thing in the world, and at that moment, that’s exactly how Stiles feels. The human only realises they are moving when Derek huffs a breath of air as his back makes contact with the wall.

Stiles tastes like unadulterated happiness and Derek wishes to taste it forever. For the first time since the fire he has hope, he feels like he has a future, and he can't wait for the rest of his life to begin.

✤

Later, Stiles waits for Derek in the living room, staring at the cardboard box on the counter through the kitchen door.

"What's in the box?" He asks when Derek emerges.

"That's proof."

"Proof of what?"

"That I mean it," he says, making his way in the kitchen and to the box.

Stiles approaches as Derek opens it. He lifts the content with ease, even though Stiles knows it must be heavy.

Once the espresso machine is out of the box, Stiles starts laughing. Derek places it on the counter again, outside of the box, where it will supposedly live from now on. Stiles shakes his head, a large smile still on his lips and Derek takes a step back, standing by his side.

"I hope you know how much I love you right now," Stiles says.

"I have an idea," Derek answers, watching his profile.

✤

Stiles graduates three quarters of a year later. On that same day, he and Derek drive the jeep back to Beacon Hills and into the preserve. When they finish unpacking all of Stiles’ things, adding them to the belongings he gradually brought to the house over the past few months, Derek fixes them a coffee using their overly large and expensive espresso machine.

Derek sits on their couch and runs his fingers through Stiles' hair as the human reads, resting his head on Derek's lap. He stares at his half-full cup of coffee, remembering the day, now years behind, when Stiles called him, reconnecting them.

"Loving you is the best thing that's ever happened to me," Derek says.

And it's true.

✤

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking to the story until the end. I hope you had as much fun reading it as I had writing it.
> 
> May happier days always find us <3

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments give me life <3


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